


Heat-Companion for Hire

by gum_weed



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Did It Anyway, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Lance (Voltron), Porn with Feelings, Probably Didn't Get Half the Alpha/Omega Stuff Right, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gum_weed/pseuds/gum_weed
Summary: A male Omega raised in a strict, traditional family, Lance has suffered dry heats his whole life - here's to hoping things will get better with an Alpha around.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Been stuck in a gaping writer’s block hole for about five months now, so I figured I’d break it the same way I broke my last dry spell – writing about my current obsessions. Current obsession: KeithxLance and Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics. Alternatively titled: an excuse to write porn. Also, new to Ao3, so let’s give this a shot!  
> -Love gum_weed

“Heat-companions” came cheap, Lance discovered on dialing the first escort agency listed in the downtown classifieds. A happy relief seeing as his university endowed cost-of-living stipend didn’t count “heat assistance” as a qualifying health expense, and working minimum wage at the campus food court paid shit. God, he barely managed to afford the TV dinners stocked in preparation for his upcoming cycle – and he picked them from the near-expiration discount bin, too!

Lance frowned at one of the soggy cardboard boxes before shrugging and tossing it into the freezer with the rest. He didn’t even know frozen dinners _could_ expire. But crappy food was better than no food and like hell was he going to relive the embarrassment of having pizza delivered like last time. Jittery, both with nerves and pre-heat waves, Lance checked his watch before resolving to pace the span of his tiny apartment until his “companion” arrived.

He wasn’t proud of this, okay? But keeping on top of courses _and_ a near full-time work schedule drained the life right out of him. Forget finding time and energy to court a suitable mate. Besides, all the hip, college-aged Omegas handled heats like this these days. Shirking devotion to a single Alpha and owning one’s heat challenged the “weak, needy Omega” stereotype. Very progressive. Very modern. And bewilderingly tolerated compared to the values Lance grew up with.

His family, bless their traditional hearts, would’ve died to see him paying for an Alpha’s company during heat. He could almost hear his grandmother’s voice preaching the nobility of isolation until _after_ proper courting. Which is why—Lance’s heart jolted at the hollow thump of a knock on the door—he wasn’t exactly writing home about this.

Skittering across the linoleum square that acted as the apartment’s foyer, Lance fumbled with the lock and yanked the door open in an overenthusiastic _whoosh_ , not missing the startled look on the dark brow of the stranger who greeted him there. He was younger than Lance expected, but decently handsome…in a grease-monkey kind of way…with dark hair pulled back in a short ponytail and a strong, sharp Alpha scent. This was good. Lance could work with this.

“Hey,” Lance huffed, not realizing he’d been holding his breath.

“Hey,” the stranger returned with an amused brow lift, “this is Lance McClain’s residence, right?”

“Yep,” Lance nodded, frozen in the doorway.

“Aaaand,” the other drawled, amusement growing as he took in the embarrassed flush of his client’s cheeks, “ _you’re_ Lance McClain, right?”

“What gave it away?” Lance chuckled, choking on forced laughter.

“Your smell for starters,” the Alpha said bluntly.

Lance balked, mentally kicking himself and casting a nervous glance around the apartment complex’s common yard and parking lot. Here he stood, full pre-heat, in a semi-public location, wafting his dumb scent for all the world to smell like some sultry, Omega tramp. Lance winced, retreating into his apartment and waving for his “companion” to follow. The other cocked a wry grin and obliged, closing the door with a nudge of his heel. He swung a motorcycle helmet under one arm and a black synch sack over the other, taking cue from the neat line of shoes by the door and stepping out of his boots before venturing farther in.

“I’m Keith, by the way,” he said, tossing his helmet onto the couch. The kid’s apartment was pretty standard for a student. Carpets discolored with age, particle board furniture, dusty window treatments. Oblivious to his client’s surprise at his brashness, Keith nudged open the nearby bedroom door and peered inside. Queen bed. Threadbare comforter. Surprisingly tidy desk and floor. Huh…no nest? Unusual, but not the strangest thing Keith encountered in his line of work. That award went to an Omega who requested he fuck them in a public bathroom. Weren’t Omegas supposed to like clean spaces for heats? But hey, judging kinks wasn’t his job.

“Sorry I’m late,” Keith said, dropping the synch sack by the bedroom door for later convenience. “Your scheduled Alpha came down with a cold, so I’m filling in last minute. You have any roommates?”

“Oh,” Lance said, feeling less and less at home in his own apartment as this stranger…this Alpha…wandered about unchecked. “N-no. I’m alone.” 

“Are you regular?” Keith continued, all business.

“What? O-oh. Yes.”

“What age was your first?”

“Uhm…fifteen? Almost sixteen.”

“You were premature?”

Lance’s blush deepened, if possible.

“It’s not bad or anything,” Keith shrugged, “I’m just getting the facts. Scale of one to five, how intense would you say your past heats have been?”

“Not…not bad, uhm…average?”

“Scale of one to five.”

Lance swallowed, “Two.”

Keith nodded. Looked like an easy job. He might even get off early with this one. Taking advantage of Lance’s disorientation, Keith stepped forward and dropped his mouth to the hollow of the other’s throat, hand darting to cup the back of Lance’s neck and stop his startled attempt to jerk away. Keith breathed deeply, Lance’s scent washing over his tongue and teeth in sweet rivulets. Water. Somewhere between ocean and rain. Clean. Light. Kinda nice actually. A sour tinge lingered there, too…but Keith could coax that nervousness away in no time.

“Mm,” Keith hummed, feeling Lance shiver beneath him as he dropped his voice low. “You’re close. Do you want to stay here, or go to the bedroom?”

“Bed-bedroom,” Lance gasped.

Keith traced his hand from the back of the other’s neck, over his shoulder, across his collarbone, down his chest—slowing ever so slightly at the sensitive swell of a nipple—to lace his practiced fingers with Lance’s stiff ones, and pull in guidance. Lance obeyed, eyes foggy.

“You smell so good,” Keith crooned, relying on his inventory of phrases Omega clients seemed to love. The words sounded hollow to Keith’s ears, overused, but praise usually helped ease the mood and induce arousal. Lance whimpered, proving no exception as Keith led him into the bedroom, turning him with a waltz-reminiscent flick of the wrist and easing him backwards. Lance’s knees hit the mattress and he melted, looking every bit an overwhelmed, first-time client at the beck of an Alpha’s hand.

Keith smirked and pressed the pad of a single finger to Lance’s stuttering chest, coaxing him back farther until he lay flush on the mattress, limbs sprawled. The flat of his stomach rose and fell rapidly, shirt hem rucked up just enough to flash vulnerable, tawny skin. Heavy heat-scent steeped Lance’s huffing breaths. Bedsprings groaned as Keith climbed over the other, bracing himself high on both knees and hands. Lance gawked up at him, the whites of his eyes bared, cheeks ruddy. No matter how repetitious these sessions had become over the years, _this_ was a sight Keith never got tired of.

Brow furrowed in concentration, Keith lowered his parted lips to the twitching crook of the Omega’s throat, venturing another deep inhale to gauge the results of his work so far. Heart rate – good. Breathing – good. Arousal – good. Scent – huh…that nervous, sour smell would usually be gone by now, bedded by an Alpha’s praise and attention, but for some reason it seemed to be swelling stubbornly instead. Keith lifted himself back up, eyes raking over his pinned client.

Strange…the other was beginning to look downright uncomfortable. Skin slick with sweat. Eyes screwed shut. White-knuckled fists balled in the sheets. Keith had all of about two seconds to connect the dots before Lance’s breath hitched, back jack-knifing off the bed in an agonized arc. Male Omega. Premature. No nest. Sour scent.

“Fuck,” Keith blurted, palm pressing to Lance’s burning forehead, dread dropping heavy in his gut. A dry heat? Did anyone even _have_ dry heats anymore? Christ, there were preventative measures for this! Why hadn’t Lance…?

“Hey, hey, hey,” Keith coaxed, muscle-memory taking over, “breathe. You gotta breathe. I know it hurts but I need you to breathe with me, okay? Here,” he flattened a palm to Lance’s chest, pressing down, “out. _Out._ Breathe out—yes! Good! Now in. Good. Now out. In. Out…”

They breathed like that. The air thick with shallow, pained gasps. The flat of Keith’s palm guiding the rise and fall of the other’s stuttering chest. Five minutes. Ten minutes. The seize finally passed, Lance’s body unclenching and the color returning to his face in vivid crimson. Tears sprung in his eyes.

“F-fuck,” Lance gasped.

“Are you okay?” Keith asked, heart racing.

“I thought—I thought—I thought,” Lance stuttered, eyes glazing again.

Keith pressed a cool palm to the side of his cheek, bringing him back.

“I thought—it’d be dif—different if I had—I had an Alpha—with—with me.”

“You’ve had dry heats before?” Keith asked, dumbstruck.

Shivering now, Lance’s skin turned clammy and pallid as he nodded, and nodded, and nodded, and seemed unable to stop nodding.

“All—all of them.”

Keith blinked, trying to process what he just heard. When the pieces finally settled, a white column of rage filled his stomach, threatening to press out his throat. He was aware of the prejudices against Omegas, okay? He wasn’t deaf, blind, or stupid. He was aware there were those who saw Omegas as lesser. He was aware that dry heats were once seen as an Omega’s fault – a byproduct of broken biology. That Omega’s with dry heats were treated _horribly_ for a long, long time…but fucking hell! Weren’t they over this yet? Hadn’t those prejudices been laid to rest? Hadn’t medical science proven that—

“ _Hha_ —” Lance’s face contorted again, bringing Keith back to the present. He scolded himself for losing focus, swallowing his anger and tearing off the bed with single-minded intent. He snatched the synch sack where it slumped by the door and upended it, spilling the contents everywhere—lube, condoms, wet wipes—trying to remember if he brought heat suppressants this time. Please, please, please…there!

Breaking the needle free of its stopper, Keith tripped back to the bed and pinned Lance’s arm with a knee, pricking the needle into the first vein he found and dispensing the small packet’s contents, all in a matter of seconds. Lance’s arced back fell, the breath leaving him in a firm gasp as the suppressants took effect, nullifying the Omega’s heat progression and yanking him back to a pre-heat state. Keith released Lance’s arm and checked the dilation of his flickering eyes, reading his pulse with two fingers jammed to his throat.

Easy, easy, easy…everything calmed.

Keith let himself relax, sitting back and drawing a hand over his face.

Fuck.

“How did you…?” Lance murmured, voice dry.

“I’m a paramedic,” Keith said flatly, “well…I’m _going_ to be a paramedic. I’m still in school. Lance, why didn’t you tell me?”

Lance gave a sort of wheezing laugh, his voice straining as he repeated: “I thought it’d be different if I had an Alpha with me.”

“Lance,” Keith groaned, “that’s not…you know that’s not what dry heats _are_ , right? It’s not…it’s not you _not_ being with an Alpha. It’s not _you_ not doing it right. Didn’t anyone ever…?”

He trailed off as Lance rolled over onto his side, drawing his long legs up against his chest and burying his face in his knees. If he curled any tighter, he might blip from existence completely. Keith almost missed what Lance muttered, small and low.

“I’m broken, aren’t I?”

Keith took a deep breath and surveyed the room again, with a medical eye this time, not an escort’s. Empty walls. Stale air. Little comfort. A textbook shitty environment for an Omega heat cycle. _So much for this being an easy job_. Keith flinched at the intrusive thought. He wanted to help people, so fucking help _this_ one. The springs in the mattress creaked as Keith leaned forward, resting a palm on Lance’s side and stroking up to his shoulder.

“You’re not broken,” Keith said firmly.

No response.

“Lance,” Keith repeated, continuing the motion with his hand, “you’re not broken, got it? I don’t care who fucking told you that. They’re wrong. Dry heats are because of stress, or depression, or because your environment isn’t right. You. Are. Not. Broken.”

The other twitched, drawing his face out of his knees and fixing Keith with a red-eyed stare. Anger twisted in Keith gut but he clamped down on it. Focus. Focus on Lance.

“But… _all_ my heats have been…I mean, even the…very first one…”

“Does your family approve of you being an Omega?” Keith asked, cutting straight to the point. They needed to address this quickly, before the suppressant wore off. The dose wouldn’t last long against a full heat, and Keith only had one more on him. Suppressing an entire heat risked permanent hormone imbalance anyway. Best to break the dry spell altogether.

Lance swallowed, avoiding Keith’s searching gaze.

“Male Omegas are uncommon,” Keith ventured, “some even think they’re mistakes, because they can’t get pregnant and childbearing is the only thing an Omega is good for. Lance…look at me.”

Teary, blue eyes lifted.

“You’re not made wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

A quiet settled between them in which Keith continued stroking Lance’s back. The Omega seemed lost in some deep thought, or memory, bobbing far away in a cruel gale, anchored by Keith’s hand passing across his skin over and over again. Keith let him have a moment before slowly, carefully scooting closer, shaking his shoulder to bring him back.

“Did you family use isolation rooms for heats?”

Lance shivered at the other’s candor.

“Y-yeah.”

“So, you’ve never built a nest before?”

“Nests are for pregnancies—” Lance started, brow furrowed.

“Nests,” Keith interrupted gently, “are for comfort. They’re a safe place for you to relax and let your body work through problems. Even I had one as a kid.”

Lance’s eyes widened in surprise.

“ _You_ had a nest?”

“Yep.”

“But…you’re an Alpha…”

Keith shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I had kind of a shitty childhood – in and out of foster care. My parents died when I was little. I built a nest to center myself. Remind myself of who I was and what made me happy. It was a pretty shitty nest…but it was mine.”

Lance stared at his curled hands intently and Keith stamped down the urge to brush the cooling sweat from the other’s brow. A small part of the Alpha in him appreciated how vulnerable Lance looked right now. The same way he appreciated drawing pleasure from Omegas in heat. Hey, for every “weakling” Omega stereotype there were two “asshole, aggressor” Alpha ones, and yeah, okay, some parts of those stereotypes rooted in biological fact, but no one gender lived at the complete mercy of their impulses and Keith was going to make damn sure Lance would find no reason to fear him right now.

“Lance,” Keith said, giving the other’s shoulder another soft shake, “there are ways to break dry heats. Let me help you.”

A tense silence pressed, then—

“Yes,” Lance croaked, nodding vigorously.

Keith smiled, genuine relief flooding him.

“Okay,” he patted Lance’s shoulder and jumped from the bed, picking out his cellphone from the rest of the synch sack’s spilled contents and shooting Lance a reassuring smile as he sidled into the hall. “I’m just going to make a quick call. Hold on.”

Keith called Shiro. Because he always called Shiro when he needed help. His foster brother, co-worker, and roommate picked up on the first ring, always on stand-by when it came to the other. Keith asked him to bring blankets and pillows. Like… _all_ the blankets and pillows he could fit in the back of his shitty Camry. No time to explain. Keith met him at the door, piling everything in the hallway for now and giving him a thankful nod.

“You okay?” Shiro asked, “You usually don’t call on the job.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith said, distracted, “just…I’ll tell you about it later, okay? Thanks for pulling through for me on this.”

Shiro nodded despite his curiosity, tossing a goodbye wave over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. By the time Keith made it back to the bedroom Lance’s face had lost some of its color again. Were the suppressants wearing off already? Keith unceremoniously dumped an armful of soft, clean blankets over Lance where he lay curled on the bed, startling him from his suppressant-stupor.

“Uh…” Lance blinked.

“Sorry,” Keith hurried, darting back to bring more supplies, “we probably don’t have time to make a proper nest. But this’ll be the next best thing.”

Lance batted a pillow off his chest, casting around in equal parts confusion and disbelief as another shower of soft things rained down him. He peeked over the edge of a blanket, seeking his “companion” amid the mess. The top layer of Keith’s hair floated with static from hauling blankets and a giggle bubbled in Lance’s chest at how ridiculous the Alpha looked, fluffy haired and red faced with his hands planted on his hips in grim determination. The sound took both of them by surprise and Keith’s chest swelled with pleasure as a blush crept over Lance’s face. They could do this. They could make this work.

Unfortunately, Lance’s pretty blush paled as that dreaded, sour smell began rising again. Keith dropped to his knees beside the bed, reaching to touch Lance’s knee when the other’s eyes widened in fear. Were this not a dry heat, these waves would bring comfort and release, but as it were, Lance’s anticipation spiked, only furthering the Omega’s distress. Recognizing the vicious cycle, Keith scrambled for the other suppressant pack, smoothing Lance’s clenched fingers as he pressed the needle in. He needed just a little more time.

“Okay,” Keith hummed, “it’s okay. Better?”

Lance’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded, wary.

“Okay,” Keith said, and, after a thought, “that was my last one. But!” he rushed, catching the flash of dread in Lance’s eyes, “it’s okay. Because we’re going to break this dry heat, okay?” He climbed onto the bed, wading through the ocean of soft things. “We’re going to break this,” he repeated, “and the next wave isn’t going to hurt. It’s going to feel good. Really, really good.”

“Keith,” Lance said, breath hitching despite the suppressant’s numb high, “I don’t know _how_ to do this. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing—”

“Jack off,” Keith instructed.

“What?!” Lance yelped, hands flailing.

Keith snagged Lance’s wrists, flipping and arranging him until his back pressed flat against Keith’s chest and they both settled deeper into the warmth and softness of the ramshackle nest. Fighting to keep his own scent neutral, but authoritative, Keith pressed a kiss to the hot skin below Lance’s ear and let out a long, low breath. Lance’s heart hammered as Alpha scent flooded his nose and mouth despite his deadened senses.

“Lance,” Keith murmured, lips just brushing the back of the other’s ear, “in order for this to work, you need to be calm. Are you calm?”

Lance gritted his teeth and tried to nod.

“Calmer,” Keith chuckled.

Lance bit back a snarky comment about “being calm” with his hands pinned and an Alpha practically _licking his ear_. Instead, he focused on the press and fall of Keith’s chest against his back, trying to follow the other’s rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. Just like before when Keith walked him through the dry wave. He burrowed his feet and legs into the blankets and relaxed his shoulders into Keith’s chest, feeling bands of muscle warm and loosen. The nest, however slapdash and foreign it was, felt…really, really nice. Nothing like the bare, concrete walls of an isolation room. Everything smelled clean but also like Keith. Lance’s stomach felt…floaty.

“Touch yourself,” Keith repeated, finally releasing one of Lance’s wrists. Lance didn’t lash out this time, but his brow did furrow in embarrassment, chin dropping. Keith caught Lance’s jaw with his now-free hand, drawing the other’s face back up and slightly to the side so he could meet his wavering blue eyes.

“You’ve never touched yourself before?” Keith nudged.

Lance swallowed. “I was taught…that only an Alpha should.”

A low growl reverberated through Lance, swelling from somewhere deep in Keith’s chest. The hairs on the back of Lance’s neck stood up and chills lifted across his arms at the sound. Keith slid his hand down Lance’s side before wrapping an arm around his belly, peppering a series of apologetic kisses to the same spot behind Lance’s ear. The combination of touches, sounds, and scents drew a sharp breath from Lance and he sunk against the Alpha with an edge of desperation.

“You do it,” Lance begged.

“No,” Keith growled again, squeezing Lance’s stomach in simultaneous apology, “you can touch yourself and feel good, Lance. It’s your body.”

“I’m not supposed to,” Lance said, panic flaring.

Keith thought for a moment, apprehensive of the other’s distress. Then he gingerly pressed their free hands together, Lance’s palm-down beneath his, and guided both to settle on the flat of Lance’s stomach, just above where Keith’s other arm looped. They stayed like that for a moment, breath steadying, then Keith nudged Lance’s hand below his shirt hem, moving slow enough that Lance could stop if needed. Under this guise, Lance managed to haltingly trace his hand across the warm, pliable skin of his own stomach, passing back and forth a few times, goosebumps riddling. His eyelids flickered. Good. This felt…good.

Lance drew along the bottom of his ribs, alternating between pressing his palm and fingers fully against the skin and ghosting just the tips of his pads. Everywhere he touched, heat and chills bloomed in mismatched unison. The floating feeling in his stomach drifted further, warmer…lower. By happy accident, Lance’s thumb brushed the puckered skin of a nipple and his whole chest jolted, startling Keith who squeezed his hand in grounding reassurance. Lance gave a short laugh, high and nervous.

“Feel good?” Keith asked.

“Mm,” Lance managed, blushing furiously.

“Do it again?” Keith suggested, smile obvious in his voice.

Lance took a breath and drew the pads of his fingertips up his chest, skirting both nipples for several passes before hesitantly circling one. When he touched the tight skin fully again he flinched, realizing he’d taken his bottom lip in between his teeth and bitten down. Sucking at his sore lip, Lance slipped into a rhythm of circling, teasing, pinching, and massaging first one nipple, then the other, the heat of Keith’s hand over his bolstering his confidence as he explored.

At home, he spent heats sprawled and miserable, not daring to move or touch a single part of himself. Pain came in rolling waves. Abdomen muscles stitched and shook. Cold sweat pooled at his thighs and back. But now? Now his hands roamed freely, dowsing every inch of his sides, collarbone, ribs, and belly with starved attention. He sucked harder at his lip, loving the taste of the wafer-thin skin, biting down softly—

“ _Hah_ —”

Lance’s eyes flew open, neck craning in surprise. _He_ hadn’t made that noise. Keith’s face flushed, his brow knitted in apology as he pressed his nose into the crook of Lance’s neck.

“Sorry,” Keith muttered, “you’re just…really, really cute.”

“I am?” Lance grinned, chest bucking when Keith’s hand slid off the top of his and touched at its own accord. Keith’s fingers were colder than Lance’s, and when he rolled the pink nub of a nipple between his thumb and forefinger it provoked Lance to mimic his earlier gasp.

“Yes,” Keith said, pinching harder than Lance dared, “keep going.”

Lance nodded, breath wavering. In the back of his mind he recognized the feeling of his heat resurfacing. A burgeoning coil haloed in that dreaded, sour tinge. But another feeling currently overrode the slow-returning heat. A tight, hot feeling just below where Keith’s arm circled his waist. Without Keith’s hand for guidance, Lance settled on resting his palm midway on top of his thigh. Sweat gathered under the restricting fabric of his jeans and Lance swallowed the request for Keith to take them off. Instead, he rubbed his hand up and down the length of his thigh slowly, working up the courage to tilt in.

He was kind of hard now. And he’d been hard before, lots of times…he’d just never done anything about it. Those long, painful hours quarantined in the isolation room spurred a hatred and fear of his own anatomy. Especially the sensitive, heavy, foreign flesh between his legs. Taking a piss felt fine, but taking care of a hard-on was like touching fire. It wasn’t until Keith’s fingers found a pleasing, steady rhythm on his chest that Lance gritted his teeth and went for it, hand stiffly coming to rest at the fabric over his groin.

Keith squeezed his stomach approvingly.

“Rub,” Keith instructed.

Lance moved his fingers, then his palm. He couldn’t feel much through his jeans, but what he could feel felt…kind of amazing. Hot and shivery and tight and growing…definitely growing. Lance bit down on his bottom lip again, not caring about the pain. Tight. Too tight.

“Here,” Keith said, quickly dropping his hand and deftly unbuttoning and unzipping the other’s jeans. Lance startled at Keith being so close to the source of his arousal, but missed the sensation when he moved his hands to Lance’s thighs instead, giving the fabric one hard yank and freeing Lance’s waist, hips, ass, thighs, and cock in one go. Lance’s head tilted back onto Keith’s shoulder with a relieved sigh, knees falling open as far as his half-discarded pants allowed as he filled out what the jeans previously restricted.

“Lance,” Keith said, the low note in his voice drawing the Omega’s attention. Keith gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze, kissing that same spot on his neck _again_.

“I can smell you,” Keith continued, treading lightly.

Lance swallowed and understood. The suppressant dose was fading. His heat would return. The dry waves would return. The pain would return. If they hadn’t done enough to mitigate Lance’s condition by now the synching, burning, coiling pain would return and—

“Hey,” Keith said, and Lance’s spiraling thoughts stilled, “you have to stay calm remember? You smell good. I have a good feeling about this.”

Keith teased at one of the Omega’s nipples again, kissing at the side of his neck once, twice…then leaving his lips pressed and open, sucking. A white bloom of pleasure swallowed whatever the hell Lance had been thinking about before, thigh muscles jerking when his fingers strayed to rest over the top of his boxers. The heat there burned, incredible. Was it supposed to be this hot? Lance rolled his head back, exposing the entirety of his throat for the wet flat of Keith’s tongue. Almost without bidding, Lance’s fingers glanced up and down his length in time with the bob of Keith’s mouth, their touch timid, light…not enough.

“Keith,” Lance creaked, more breath than voice.

“Take it like this,” Keith said, full hand—fingers, palm, and all—wrapping without warning around the base of Lance’s cock, over the wetting fabric of his boxers. Keith tugged once, hard, prompting Lance’s hips to snap up despite his weak knees before releasing him again, just as fast. Lance’s jaw hung slack at the devastating jolt that pulsed his whole length, pleading for that _touch_ and that _movement_ to come back. Lance wanted to beg Keith to take him like that again, but his mouth refused to form words and the other’s attention had returned to his throat and chest anyway.

Fuck it.

Lance took his cock and squeezed, heartrate stumbling at the sensation. The arm over his belly tightened to keep his hips from surging forward, forcing Lance to judder his hand instead, chasing that feeling. The rough cotton of his boxers irritated the tender skin, but the dark, wet spot at his tip bloomed with pre-cum regardless of the discomfort, grip desperate and clumsy. Keith’s lathing tongue guided Lance over the edge, fingers clutching somewhat painfully into the skin between his inner thigh and cock as his back arced beautifully, a pleasure-struck, reverse echo of his earlier dry wave.

Keith gripped Lance’s rigid body against him, studying the rapid hitch of his breaths for any iota of pain. Only feather-light, grateful gasps dripped from the Omega’s red, parted lips. Just as sudden, the other fell slack, hips, knees, and back melting into Keith’s hold and the warmth of the surrounding nest. With Lance’s head lolled over his shoulder, Keith watched the sweat-and-saliva-shined bob of his Adam’s apple, lowering his shoulders backwards in an effort to sink them both deeper in the nest.

Soft, so not to alert the other to his examination, Keith parted his teeth and breathed deep. Water. Somewhere between ocean and rain. Clean. Bright. Not the least bit sour, but heavy with the unmistakable, sweet lilt of an Omega in full heat. Lance’s body felt hot against his chest, the exposed skin of his stomach, upper thighs, and throat tinged in delicate pink. Not bothering to hide the grin in his voice, Keith nudged at the side of Lance’s neck with his nose.

“You feel that?”

“Yea—yeah,” Lance breathed, trying to lift his head but flopping back immediately. He blinked at the ceiling, eyes stung by unshed tears. “Is this…what it’s…supposed to feel like?”

“Yes,” Keith kissed the faint bruise he’d sucked into the Omega’s throat, feeling the lithe muscles of the other’s stomach jolt at the touch. Lance squirmed against him, trying to press closer and pull away at the same time. Hot. Everything was hot. His skin, his throat, his mouth, his tongue, the undersides of his knees, his thighs…his softening cock…his slit, still weeping cum down his length. Keith moved a fraction of an inch and Lance swallowed a high breath, hyperaware of every point of contact between them.

“How long did your dry heats usually last?” Keith asked.

“Uhm…” Lance blinked, dazed, “t-two or three days.”

“Normal heats are longer,” Keith hummed. “Six to nine.”

Lance gulped. _Nine days?!_ Nine days of this? He…he didn’t have enough food! He hadn’t requested enough work off! How the hell was he supposed to—?

“Lance,” Keith said, voice taking on an Alpha resonance, “calm down. I’ll be here with you, okay? I’ll help take care of you.”

Chills puckered Lance’s arms.

“You’ll stay?”

Keith brushed a thumb over the pink part of Lance’s lips, lingering at the red half-moons where he’d bitten down in pleasure. In truth the job only required he stay through heat induction and the first two waves, though some Alphas stayed longer…usually for personal pleasure, or to milk the clock. Was he being selfish? The kid barely tolerated masturbation, and as far as his body knew this was his first, real heat. Would it even proceed normally given Lance’s track record of dry runs?

“Yeah,” Keith resolved, his stomach giving a little jump of satisfaction at the relieved flush of the Omega’s cheeks. Professionalism be damned, Keith pressed his lips to Lance’s in a proper kiss, resisting the urge to coax the other’s pliant mouth open with his tongue. 

“I’ll stay.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lance jolted at a cold press against his cheek, cracking his muggy eyes to see Keith standing over him, offending water bottle in hand.

“Drink,” Keith instructed.

Lance groaned and tried to burrow deeper into one of the good, minky blankets teased from their makeshift nest. Hours later and his body still burned, skin twitching at every hair-light touch. After the first wave, Lance sunk into a hot, restless sleep, guiltily trying to fight it for about half an hour before Keith assured him it was normal. Lance might’ve felt weirder about leaving a strange Alpha alone in the apartment if the other hadn’t just helped him reach the best…okay _only_ …orgasm of his life.

Keith sighed and dropped to his knees on the bed, snaking his arms under the burrowed Omega’s shivering sides and yanking him upright. Lance squawked in protest, which morphed into a shout when Keith began pulling the shirt up over his head.

“Relax!” Keith huffed, managing to get Lance’s shirt off and tossing it to the foot of the nest. Probably good to have at least one thing that smelled like Lance in this mess. “You’re gonna overheat like this. We should probably clean you up anyway.”

Lance clutched at his jeans when Keith made a grab for those next, a look of absolute horror on his face. In truth, the skin of his inner thighs and crotch itched with dried cum – but good lord! Keith could at least try to have _some_ modesty about this. Spending nine days in the same sweaty, stinking clothes sounded more doable than mustering the courage to strip in front of an Alpha…especially one with Keith’s bone structure…and toned shoulders…and pretty, dark, probing, eyes… _fuck!_

Keith took a knee to the gut, releasing Lance with an “ _Oof!_ ” God, for being so skinny the kid could pack a kick. Lance fell back, arms pinwheeling, face flush. Not missing a beat, Keith yanked the other’s jeans and boxers from the crest of his hips. Like hell a client was going to overheat on his watch! Jeans and boxers joined Lance’s shirt at the foot of the nest. Hair ruffled, breath ragged, Keith sat back on his heels and ran a palm over his exasperated face – only to freeze on the spot. Okay, on second thought, rough-housing like this might’ve been a little dangerous…especially now a cute, buck-naked, virgin Omega lay pinned between his knees. Lance’s pretty pink cock bobbed over the tawny skin of his pant-heaving stomach.

“Shit,” Keith jolted, jerking off the bed and pacing to the opposite side of the room. He smelled Lance’s fear without turning to see the panicked gape of his mouth or the bared whites of his eyes. Families with traditional Omega values like Lance’s taught obedience and respect for an Alpha. If so inclined, Keith knew he could order Lance to roll over on his knees and present, right then and there. Based on Lance’s smell, he knew it too. Keith could claim him all night so long as the command stood. Feel him jerk and shudder while taking all of him. God, the sounds he would make…

“Fuck!”

Keith left. He stormed into the hall and slammed the bedroom door behind him, pacing the short length from the bathroom to the kitchen with measured breaths. In truth, this many hours into a session usually equaled three or four orgasms and at least one knotting on Keith’s part. Omegas in heat rarely held back, especially ones that ordered fucking escorts! This whole situation was so fucking backwards. How stereotypical of an Alpha to lose control around a vulnerable, heat-wrecked Omega. _Asshole_ , Keith berated himself, finally slowing his pace near the bathroom and taking a deep breath to clear his head.

The smell of Lance’s fear bloomed from under the bedroom door. Guilt twisted in Keith’s stomach. He wanted to help Lance. Calm him. Hold him. Keith thought of the soft, worried look on the Omega’s brow when he slept after pleasuring himself for the first time in his entire life, curled impossibly tight against Keith’s chest, blindly seeking comfort in a complete stranger. How bad had his hands shook when he called the agency? How many times did he have to repeat himself due to his stuttering? He must’ve been so scared…

Deep breaths. In. Out.

“Okay,” Keith sighed, and went into the bathroom. He shamelessly pawed through Lance’s laundry hamper, pulling a shirt from the very bottom where Lance’s smell settled strongest. Sitting down on the acrylic-cold lip of the bathtub, Keith unzipped his pants and took hold of his already half-hard cock, pressing Lance’s shirt over his nose and mouth as he began to move. His body needed this. It scared him how much he needed this.

Unfiltered, Keith thrust into his fist, breathing fast. He swallowed Lance’s scent in reams, sucking it from the crumpled, heady fabric like the finest wine. Not gunning for length or artistry, Keith scratched over his knot when the red flesh swelled to head, the white-hot buzz of release rushing forward. When Keith came in spurts over his fist he jammed his mouth full of Lance’s shirt and bit down achingly hard, missing the iron rush of blood that came with a good, deep mark. It took less than a minute, and Keith hated the embarrassed flush that washed over his face and neck as he returned Lance’s wet shirt to the hamper and dozily cleaned up.

The room dripped with his smell and Keith wished he’d thought to take care of himself elsewhere before moving the rubber bathtub stopper into place and cranking on the hot water. Lance struck him as a bubble bath type of guy…ah, bingo. Keith grabbed the bottle from under the sink and added a few squirts to the roiling water, letting a good lather build and fill before turning the knob off and taking another deep breath. At least the room smelled a bit more like “Strawberry Fields” than Alpha cum now.

Keith hesitated outside the bedroom door, then knocked lightly.

“Lance?”

Silence.

Keith swallowed.

“Uhm, can I come in?”

Silence - then a rustle of sheets.

“Are…you okay?”

Keith’s chest squeezed at how timid the other sounded, voice barely reaching him through the closed door. Unfortunately, the concern didn’t concern Keith’s actual well-being. More like checking to make sure Keith wouldn’t flip and mount Lance the second he entered.

“Yeah,” Keith sighed, “can I come in?”

“…yes.”

Fear-scent clung heavy to the floor, sunken and cold. Keith found Lance shivering in his bed despite the armor of at least six blankets woven tight around him. Stressed, red veins laced his tear-rimmed eyes, and his bottom lip sported an angry, swollen bite. In spite of himself, Keith noticed the pink of Lance’s ears and the bright scent of new Omega release surrounding the nest. Lance had jerked himself off again…alone.

“Oh, Lance,” Keith muttered, lowering himself onto the bedside.

A silence passed between them in which Keith mustered the courage to rest a hand on the other’s shaking shoulder. Relief flooded him when Lance leaned into the touch rather than away. He’d wanted Lance to feel good during his second wave. He’d wanted to help him feel good. Show him there was more to heats than pleasuring some Alpha. Fuck…so much for Keith playing “knight in shining armor.” At least the stress hadn’t pushed Lance back into dry waves. Keith smoothed his palm over Lance’s blankets.

“Wanna clean up?” he asked simply.

Lance swallowed, throat sticking dryly, and nodded.

“Can I carry you?”

Another small nod.

Allowing all the blankets to fall away except the bottommost one, Lance wrapped his skinny arms around Keith’s neck and permitted the other to lift him. He immediately missed the warmth of the nest, funny considering how weird the whole concept sounded just hours before. But Keith’s sure grip around his back and under his knees felt almost as good…almost, and Lance pressed into Keith’s throat while the other carried him into the steam-billowed bathroom. Lance’s nose twitched, not missing the foreign Alpha smell that clung here, shying away from its remnants when Keith lowered him to his feet.

God, that bath looked good.

“Want me to…?” Keith gestured toward the door.

Lance thought, then shook his head, dropping his blanket and stepping one foot into the hot bath. The idea of being alone again bothered him more than being naked in front of Keith. Especially after taking care of himself a second time. Panic made him clumsy and desperate. He’d hurt himself more than anything and tried to shield the mistreated, sore skin of his cock from Keith’s eye as he wobbly stepped over the lip of the tub. Not noticing, or choosing not to comment, Keith offered a steadying hand, which Lance took. The Alpha’s other palm came to rest on the small of Lance’s back as he sunk into the water.

“Hah,” Lance breathed, head tilting in bliss.

“Good?” Keith half-smiled.

Lance nodded, eyes closed.

Keith stayed, sitting on the floor beside the bath with his knees drawn loose. He kept his back turned while Lance rubbed clean the skin of his thighs, groin, and stomach, shy despite the cover of the bubbles. Happy to be stick-free again, Lance settled deeper into the water, until only the top of his head from the nose up bobbed above bubbles. Wary of Keith’s silence, Lance studied the softly defined muscle of his neck, down to where the skin disappeared beneath the collar of his black t-shirt. Underwater, he squeezed his arms over his chest, quieting the urge to touch the Alpha in reassurance.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said suddenly.

Lance blinked.

“I shouldn’t have…” the other’s dark brow furrowed deep, eyes warring between several emotions Lance didn’t understand. Keith’s hand lifted to rub at the muscle in his neck Lance had wanted to touch and massage just moments before.

“It’s stupid,” Keith deadpanned, “how many people think Omegas are the weaker sex when…God, I came so close to just losing it. A-and you endured dry heats for so long. Lance,” Keith’s voice stuttered over a strained bark of laughter, turning his eyes fully to the other, “do you have any idea how strong you are? You’re so, so strong. And brave.”

His eyes softened.

Keith reached a hand to touch Lance’s cheek, fingers half in the water.

“And beautiful,” he finished.

Lance snorted in surprise, forgetting his submerged nose and splashing water all over his face. He sat up with a cough and a tense laugh, shooting Keith a disbelieving look.

“N-now I know your talking out of your ass,” he coughed.

“What are you talking about?” Keith asked, eyes genuinely confused.

“I’m not…” Lance laughed again, “Keith, I’m not…”

“What?” Keith shot back, “Strong? Brave?”

“ _Beautiful!_ ” Lance forced, embarrassed to even repeat it. “I-I’m skinny, and awkward, and too tall, and honestly kind of annoying, and—”

“Pretty?” Keith interrupted with a wry half-grin.

Lance flushed, “N-no, no, I’m—”

“Cute?” Keith supplied again, grin wicked and wide now. “Endearing? Kind? Soft? Warm? Hot? So…so, hot. You’re really hot, Lance.”

“Only ‘cuz I’m in _heat_ ,” Lance half-joked, sinking back into the water.

Keith laughed, full and bright, twisting back around and spreading both arms across the length of the tub side.

“Fine,” he said, “have it your way, pretty boy. I still think you’re beautiful.”

Thankfully the hot bath colored Lance’s skin enough to hide his furious blush. He stayed sunk in the blissful warmth until his fingers pruned, the bubbles nearly gone. He managed the decency to reclaim his blanket after Keith insisted on toweling him off, loving the hush-brush of the soft fabric against his bare, clean skin. He yelped when Keith picked him up again despite his full intention to walk back to the bedroom on his own two legs and Keith chuckled low in his chest when Lance’s arms flailed to regain his forfeited balance.

On being unceremoniously dumped back in the nest, Keith ordered Lance down a whole bottle of water and smooth lotion over every inch of himself…like, _every_ inch.

“It’ll help with the chaffing,” Keith said, the picture of nonchalance.

Lance buried his face in the nearest pillow and groaned, only to startle at a soft touch on his back. He peeked out from under his arms. Keith leaned over him on one hand, the other stroking up and down the stretch of blanket covering Lance’s naked side, slow and thoughtful. Lance shivered, remembering Keith’s body hunched over him less than two hours before, a completely different look in his wild, dark eyes. And…yeah _okay_ , no secrets here, Lance had been thinking of that look and that moment and that panic and that smell when he’d jerked off the second time…but that didn’t mean he wanted Keith to…what? Knot him? Claim him? Mark him? Lance called _him_ after all. Wasn’t this how these things were supposed to go?

“Lance,” Keith said, “I want to stay with you tonight. But, if you’re uncomfortable—”

“I’m not,” Lance hurried, love-hating the way Keith’s brow cocked at his eagerness. “I-I mean…I don’t want to be alone. And…I’m not afraid of you.”

Lance tried to read the tilt of Keith’s expression, the shadow of his eyes – but it proved impossible. The Alpha’s face finally settled on relief and Lance’s stomach ached with pleasure when Keith settled down on the bed beside him, arm coming to rest atop the blanket covering Lance’s stomach. He wondered if Alpha “cuddle-companions” existed, too. He’d pay bank for one of those if every Alpha snuggled as well as Keith. Chest warm. Breath humming. Mouth seconds from Lance’s goosebump-riddled nape.

Still glowing with post-bath heat, Lance wiggled deeper and tighter against Keith, and Keith’s arms, and Keith’s nest, and Keith’s smell, and just… _Keith_. They dozed, neither really wanting to sleep but both drifting off anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the kind words and kudos!  
> -Love gum_weed


	3. Chapter 3

Lance woke uncomfortable. Legs cramped, arms numb, and dick fully erect. He let a slow, frustrated breath hiss out between his clenched teeth. One decent night’s sleep, was that too much to ask for? He snaked a hand down his chest to touch at his rigid length, hiss making a comeback at even a fingertip’s graze. His stomach cramped with need. His thighs shook. The previous waves paled in comparison to this one. Lance craned his neck, eyes darting to Keith’s face pressed sleepily against his shoulder. Out cold.

Blue moonlight stuffed the room from floor to ceiling, occasionally punctured by the yellow blur of passing headlights. Lance counted his breaths, hoping to will the damn thing away. He didn’t want to jerk off again. Not after how terrible last time felt. The swell alone made his sore skin twinge, forget trying to rub. Breathe in. Out. In. Out.

“Hmm,” Keith breathed in his sleep, air hot and teasing and musky. Lance froze. Oh, no – please, no. The hand resting innocently on Lance’s side twitched, then slipped under the sleep-crumpled edge of the blanket and over the Omega’s bare chest, fingertips catching the ridge of every…single…rib.

“F- _fuhk_ ,” Lance gasped, jack-knifing upright, “Keith!”

The other jolted from sleep with a series of confused blinks.

“Hm? Hm? Wh’s wrong?”

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance tried again, mouth unable to find any other words. His voice collapsed into a series of sharp, breathy pants, chin dropping and jaw going slack. That got Keith’s fucking attention right quick and he hauled himself up beside Lance, giving the heated Omega a quick once-over. Shit, Lance must’ve slept through the pre-wave and woken up peaked. Shyness forgotten, Lance hunched with knees stitched and thighs spread, length tight, head swollen, slit beaded with pre-cum. Keith carded a hand through Lance’s hair, trying to calm him but only succeeding in drawing an outrageous moan from his gaped mouth. Great, now Keith was hard.

“Lance,” Keith said, deciding quickly, “I’m gonna suck you off.”

He lifted himself onto his knees and swung around to face Lance, hands coming to rest against each of the Omega’s cocked thighs. Keith had been expecting some resistance or inhibition on Lance’s part, but all the other managed was staccato pants and two firm nods. Keith licked his lips, dropped his hands to Lance’s stuttering hips, and swallowed his entire length in one go. Lance rag-dolled immediately, back hitting the mattress with a breathless cry. Keith nearly gagged on the other’s sudden change in position but compensated by shifting to his own belly and flattening Lance’s knees with firm, guiding hands.

The muscles in Lance’s stomach clenched painfully despite the stunning warmth sliding and sucking down his cock. Concentrated exhales from Keith’s nose fluttered Lance’s hair, knees fighting to jerk close against the Alpha’s firm palms. Between grazing teeth, hollowed cheeks, and glossing tongue, Keith managed to coax the painful swell of the Omega’s hard-on into release. Lance came, hips heaving, fingers scrambling uselessly against his own scalp as Keith breathed out and swallowed everything. The hands that once pinned Lance’s thighs turned soft, stroking from his knees to his ass in comfort. Lance gave a full-body shiver when Keith pulled off him, pausing to lick at some residual cum lingering at his slit.

Wave placated, Lance’s embarrassment came back full force. His entire chest flushed red and he nearly smacked Keith’s chin snapping his knees shut and rolling to curl on his side. What was he _thinking_?! At the time, nothing mattered but relief. Stop the heat. Stop the swelling. Stop the ache. But…oh, god poor Keith! Forced to suck him off like…like a goddamn Omega while Lance lost control. Lance jolted at a returning memory, blush doubling. Oh shit, shit, shit—had Keith actually _swallowed_?

“Lance,” Keith’s voice came, disembodied as Lance currently had his face buried as far as the bed would allow. “Lance, seriously, stop that.”

“I’m so, so sorry,” Lance gasped.

“What?”

“I-I’m so sorry, I—”

“Lance,” Keith grunted, digging the other’s face up with a knuckle, “I seriously can’t hear you. What are you saying?”

“I’m sorry!” Lance wailed, tears springing. Keith flinched at the other’s unexpected volume, clapping a palm over Lance’s mouth to quiet him.

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Keith said, “cuz you have nothing to be sorry for. At the risk of totally freaking you out, I can honestly say I’ve been dying to do that since you opened the front door.”

Lance’s eyes widened over Keith’s palm and Keith chuckled at the sight. Yep, totally freaked him out. Scooting closer, Keith arranged Lance’s shoulders into his lap and set about resuming his calming scalp-scratch now that the motion didn’t prompt lewd groaning from the other. At notable risk of further wailing, he removed his hand from Lance’s mouth, meeting the other’s watery eyes from above and cocking a crooked grin.

Lance crumpled, averting his gaze and going limp.

“Why can’t I have _one_ normal orgasm?” Lance pouted after a moment.

Keith’s fingers stopped, lips twisting in a smile.

“Is that an invitation?”

Lance balked, mouth opening but no words coming out.

Keith breathed out through his nose and prodded the Omega’s shoulders until he sat up, yanking a blanket over his naked lower half as Keith organized him until they were facing. The room smelled like a real nest now – heady and bright and layered with pleasure, release, and warmth. For some reason, it smelled better than any room Keith ever spent a job in. His job was…strange in a lot of ways. And Keith learned to bury the cut of an Omega making use of him like some garden shed tool. Means to an end and all. But here…now…with Lance’s wavering gaze flitting up to finally, _finally_ meet his and Lance’s shoulders hunched and his skin bright with sweat and blush…god, Keith would’ve done anything to make him happy. Anything.

“You know,” Keith mused, fingers lacing with Lance’s, “heats are about more than just sex. I know some people glorify in-heat Omegas as this…ideal hookup, but…heats are as much about trust as they are about pleasure.”

Lance’s head tilted slightly, an endearing gesture of confusion.

“An ideal heat,” Keith continued, drawing on both knowledge and experience, “is one spent with someone an Omega trusts. Someone who puts their wellbeing and safety above all else. Like bonded mates. An Omega can ride out their heat with zero doubt, zero fear, zero stress – a biological trifecta of confidence. And I know your family might’ve taught you differently, but…I value that trust. So, so much. It’s like this…special secret reserved only for Omegas. And Lance,” Keith squeezed his hand, “I want you to feel that with me.”

“You’re a prostitute,” Lance blurted.

Keith laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was just so… _Lance_.

“N-not that that’s bad,” Lance rushed, cheeks colored, “I-I appreciate your work and I’m sure you find…f-fulfillment in your job. I just—”

Keith released Lance’s fingers and traced his hand up the other’s arm, leaning forward as his palm settled on the back of Lance’s neck. This close, Keith noticed the chapped curls of skin on Lance’s lips and the 5 o’clock shadow that, judging from the other’s completely smooth chest, wouldn’t amount to much left unchecked. The grip in Keith’s stomach tightened and he pressed his forehead to Lance’s, meeting the other’s wavering eyes unwaveringly.

“Do you trust me?” Keith asked.

Lance swallowed, and muttered, “Y-yes.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“…yes.”

Immediately, Keith pressed his lips to Lance’s, grip tightening over the back of his neck. He remained chaste at first, lips only, free hand coming to rest on the other’s side. Lance jumped at the chill of Keith’s fingers—poor circulation or something—before unabashedly surrendering forward, his own hands finding the warm dips where Keith’s shoulders met his neck. Surprising to both, Lance’s tongue was the first to flick out, tip brushing over Keith’s bottom lip in an unintentional yet burning sweep. Keith pulled back, taking in Lance’s apologetic grimace for less than a second before hauling himself on top of the other, his commanding weight forcing Lance flush against the mattress.

Held over Lance by the tense push of his arms alone, Keith hesitated.

“Can I?” he managed.

Lance swallowed, “F-fuck yes.”

Keith dropped forward, lips finding Lance’s first before the fronts of his shoulders, his chest, and his hips followed, all devastatingly hot and weighty. Lance parted his thighs to either side, slotting the other’s narrow hips against his, blanket still crushed between them. And _fuck_ , Keith was heavy—in a comforting, anchoring, sturdy kind of way. Trying his best not to focus on the stiff heat of Keith’s obvious erection, Lance focused instead on his mouth, meeting the soft knead of his lips with eyes closed, brow stitched. For being escort and client, Keith and Lance’s tongues had not explored each other _nearly_ enough, a sad fault they more than made up for now. Every inhale and swallow Lance managed to gulp between kisses wept with Keith’s leavened scent.

Again, surprisingly, Lance instigated progression, the light bite of his teeth finding Keith’s lip at the same time his hips rolled upward, drawing a low breath from the other as he met and returned the motion tenfold. Lance was way too shy to perform proper dry humping, but Keith sure as hell wasn’t. The rhythm and strength with which the Alpha ground down against Lance’s hips drew prolongated shivers from the other that quickly devolved into open mouth gasps. Lance’s cock, previously softened, shuddered to full erection again, hips hesitantly rising to meet Keith’s downward pulses in shy reciprocation.

“Oh-okay,” Keith huffed, movements stilling, “y-you need to set some boundaries. Hh- _hah_ —f-fuckin’ safe words or something. Lance… _please_.”

Lance flushed, forearms riddled with chills, bashfully drawing the blanket covering his lower half aside with shaking hands. His dick stood fully erect, navel clenched in anticipation. Every inch of skin from his collarbones to his knees donned a terribly becoming, ruddy blush. His stomach dropped when Keith’s jaw slackened, the Alpha’s eyes growing bright and hazy at the same time.

“N-no penetration,” Lance managed. He wasn’t ready for that.

Keith gave one, resolute nod, then dropped his mouth to Lance’s chest, tongue flat dragging fully over a tight nipple at the same time his hips pulsed down. Lance shuddered, hands gripping the back of Keith’s shirt hard, purple blooms bursting behind his screwed-shut eyelids. Determined to deprive Lance of any grip that wasn’t his own bare skin, Keith reared up and yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it far from the Omega’s reach before rushing down again. Between the exposed stretch of Keith’s chest and his warm mouth latched over Lance’s nipple, the world narrowed into the heated points of contact between them.

Lance wasn’t aware of the _sounds_ he was making until Keith’s teeth left his nipple to tease at the skin of his lowermost rib. Every downward stroke of Keith’s hips drew a more-breath-than-voice “ _Hah_ ” from Lance’s parted lips. The room’s scent spiked from previous hazy desperation to dangerous clarity. Fully aware of the intended route of Keith’s mouth, Lance made sure his fingers anchored in the dark crown of the other’s hair before he leaned back to suck several pink bruises into Lance’s inner thighs.

“Keith,” Lance whined, fingernails digging.

Keith slowed his movements, kissing softly down one thigh, both of the other’s knees slung over his pale shoulders. Ignoring the needy clutch of Lance’s nails in his scalp, Keith nodded his nose into the skin between the base of Lance’s cock and thigh and grinned, slow. He drank in a deep breath, mouth parting to allow the scent to wash over the roof of his mouth and back of his throat as well. God, Lance smelled good. He didn’t get the chance to really take it in before, pressed by time. But now, with every motion calculated, every kiss slow, the Omega’s smell filled Keith’s head like cotton, dizzying.

Only half-aware, Keith kissed the base of Lance’s cock, tongue flicking out when the other flinched. Lance’s skin burned hot velvet against Keith’s wandering tongue, still spit-damp from Lance’s last wave. Lips parted, Keith ran his mouth up Lance’s full length, pausing to plant two or three more-teeth-than-lip kisses before coming to rest at the tip. Keith’s gaze raked up the heaving hollow of Lance’s hips and stomach, along the tawny expanse of his chest, over his bared throat, straight to the other’s half-parted, pink mouth and wide blue eyes.

“Don’t you dare look away,” Keith muttered, breath hot on Lance’s head.

Lance’s mouth became a pressed line of obedience, fighting the urge to drop his chin as Keith’s lips pushed then parted over the tip of his cock. As uncomfortable as rubbing would’ve been given his skin’s reddened state, the wet, warm clasp of Keith’s mouth fluttered Lance’s eyelids with bliss, earning a warning grunt from the Alpha. Lance curled his fingers through Keith’s hair in apology, trying to swallow his nervous, pleading gasps but only succeeding half of the time.

Full disclosure, Keith considered himself pretty talented at giving head. Omega clients liked seeing him sit submissive between their legs, so the sheer number of requests for this service alone accrued an inventory of motions, rhythms, and placement awareness that resulted in honest, practiced, flat-out skill. Unfortunately, the fucking _look_ on Lance’s face lobbed years of knowledge and rehearsal straight down a white, hazy hole and Keith found his tongue rasping without direction, eager teeth grazing sensitive skin clumsily. Keeping a palm gripped under Lance’s upper thigh, Keith kneaded his free hand into the heated weight beneath the Omega’s base, every roll of knuckle and heel encouraging the shaft resting heavily on his tongue to jump.

Lance’s voice pitched high when Keith finally broke eye contact and swallowed him down fully, nose meeting pelvic bone. Taking advantage of Keith’s unspoken permission to look away, Lance rolled his head back, upper body propped by his elbows and lower body propped by Keith’s shoulders. Eyes closed, Lance focused on the press, pull, lick, and trace of the other’s mouth. Unlike the three times before Lance pinpointed the stitch of his budding release and followed its bloom from a tight compression in his lower stomach to a torrid burst curving from base to tip, shivering his entire length. And just like before, Keith’s mouth remained clasped through it, every pulse swallowed.

What felt like hours later Lance took a proper breath and lifted his face, peeking down the length of his torso to where Keith’s dark eyes sought his with a quirk of a grin. The Alpha rested his cheek against the shivering inside of the other’s thigh, unoccupied hand smoothing over the round of Lance’s ass as his worked-over cock relaxed and sunk to his navel. Embarrassment, guilt, and shyness skipped through Lance’s chest—all lasting less than a breath—before an overwhelming fondness swelled in each’s place, bringing a warmth Lance ached with.

Pulling himself up, motion prompting Keith to do the same, Lance looped all ten fingers through Keith’s hair and kissed him. He wanted to keep kissing him, to crawl into his lap and drink in his scent and taste the salty skin of his throat…but Keith flinched when Lance’s weight settled over him and he held the Omega back by both shoulders. Seeking his eyes in the dark.

“I, uh…” Keith muttered, shifting.

Oh.

Oh!

Lance recoiled, mentally kicking himself for throwing his needy, after-glow soaked body on top of Keith with the other still in obvious need. At some point Keith had unzipped his pants to relieve pressure, but the striking bulge of his boxers remained very much _un_ relieved.

“S-sorry,” Lance said, skin cold without Keith’s nearness.

“S’alright,” Keith grunted, making to stand, “I’ll go to the bathroom—”

“No!” Lance all but squawked, startling them both.

“No,” he said, softer, hand touching Keith’s arm, “y-you can stay. I, uh…I don’t know if I can help but I don’t want you to go.”

The flash of passing headlights illuminated Keith’s warring expression. His dark eyes raked down Lance’s body, hands hot against the other’s shoulders. But he didn’t smell…like last time. Every inch of him held taunt with control. After a moment he gave a tight nod, settling with his back to the wall and his lap open. Lance hesitated, then climbed into the Alpha’s lap, knees to either side, raised just enough that Keith could fit a hand between his legs and take his own cock from his boxers. The sigh that fell from Keith’s lips lifted chills on Lance’s arms.

“What…what should I do?” Lance asked, voice small.

“Just…” Keith ran a hand up Lance’s thigh, palm finding the Omega’s lower back and nudging him higher. Wanting to do something with his hands, Lance clasped Keith’s neck, leaning forward until the other’s forehead came to rest against his chest. Positioned like this, Lance’s ass wavered just above Keith’s erection, one sinking motion away from penetration. Lance shivered at the thought, breath catching when the other sighed against him again and began to move. Unable to see, knees already shaking with the effort of holding himself spread and high, Lance pressed his nose into the crown of Keith’s hair and focused on the cadence of the other’s breathing, the soft shudders of his movements below.

Apprehensive of his tolerance for control Keith made quick work of himself. His knot barely managed to head before Keith squeezed it, feeling Lance jolt when cum arced to coat his spread ass and thighs. Shit, Keith meant to catch that. But the thought of Keith’s mark on Lance carried him through his pulses and he sucked in a long draw of Lance’s scent while coming off his high, tongue flicking out to taste the Omega’s chest again and again.

“Haah,” Keith sighed, relaxing his grip around Lance’s back.

After a hesitant moment Lance sunk, shaking knees finding relief as he settled fully into Keith’s lap. Their cocks slotted together in the motion and Keith’s twitched with interest, though he managed to coax a second hard-on to rest by nuzzling into the crook of Lance’s throat. Keith drowned in stormy, ocean-smell, listening to the thunder of Lance’s steady heartbeat until the other shifted. The cum-slick skin of their groins stuck uncomfortably together and Lance jolted at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Wanna clean up?” Keith chuckled.

“Yes, please,” Lance groaned, rolling off Keith as the other rose from the bed in search of wet wipes and water bottles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind words and kudos - they each mean so much to me!  
> -Love gum_weed


	4. Chapter 4

“This is seriously all you have?”

Lance sighed into his hands, feeling ridiculous as he stood in just a long t-shirt—Keith refused to let him wear anything heavier, something about “overheating”—before the opened refrigerator door. In his head, a real heat equated to a few steamy hours with a lust-crazed Alpha, and one or two days of recovery time. How the hell was he supposed to know this damn thing would last _all week_? Or that he’d be this hungry, like… _all_ the time? Barely two days in and he’d blown through half of the “food” in the kitchen.

“Lance,” Keith deadpanned, pulling a box of toaster pastries out from the pantry, “this isn’t good food for a heat. You need protein. Electrolytes. Do you have _any_ vegetables?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lance snapped, “I blew my ‘raging-heat-fund’ on an Alpha to shoot me full of magic, heat-quenching cum! I don’t exactly have a bottle of wine and a cheeseboard to split between fuck buddies, Keith!”

Keith blinked at him, brows raised.

Lance drew a heavy hand over his face and flopped onto one of the barstools he used in leu of real chairs. “Ah—I’m sorry, I just…”

“It’s okay,” Keith muttered, crossing the small space to pet at the back of Lance’s head, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. Seriously though, have you always eaten like this during your heats?”

“No,” Lance said, miserably leaning into Keith’s touch, “Ma always brought good food into the isolation rooms for me. Elena ruz…ropa vieja…fried plantains…oh god, _flan_. I haven’t had good flan since leaving home.”

Keith continued carding through Lance’s short hair, ears perking at the other’s native tongue. He spoke with so little an accent Keith just assumed the Omega was second-generation. Or just…really tan? Stupid. Either way, they needed real food, fast. Heats burned energy like a marathon and Lance’s appetite was proving one to be reckoned with. That and Keith refused to eat expired frozen dinners with a huge grocery store in walking distance.

“I’m gonna go get us some real food,” Keith announced, glad he’d showered that morning as he crossed to the front door and picked out his boots.

Lance’s face popped up, brows furrowed with guilt. “No, no, no, _please_ —I can order pizza or something! I think I still have a gift card somewhere…”

“Hey,” Keith said, hand raised to quiet Lance’s babbling, “first off, I hate pizza. Second, consider this part of the service call. Or just…me being a decent enough human being to not let you survive on Pop Tarts all week. I’ll be right back.”

And just like that, Keith was gone. Lance stared at the closed door for a few minutes before lurching to his feet and shuffling back to his nest.

“Who the hell hates pizza?” he pouted.

*

Not realizing he’d fallen asleep, Lance woke to the smell of burning.

He sat up, hair askew, nose twitching. Thumping sounded from the kitchen and Lance jumped from the bed, shrugging that dumb shirt over his head and racing into the hall. Smoke poured from the oven door, pooling around Keith’s legs as he yanked the offending dish from the rack and unceremoniously dropped it into the sink. The Alpha glowered at the failed dish for a moment before swinging back around to kick the oven door shut.

“Oh,” Keith balked, seeing Lance.

He jerked a thumb toward the sink.

“Flan’s ready.”

Lance blinked, a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“Did you really—?”

“Desserts aren’t my thing,” Keith interrupted, turning instead to the stovetop where a soup pot roiled with fragrant, yellow broth. Lance folded his arms over his chest and snuck forward curiously, mouth watering at the billows of steam that rose when Keith lifted the lid. Okay, so Keith could cook. Well…he couldn’t cook flan, but he’d actually _tried_ , just because Lance had mentioned…? Lance’s chest squeezed.

“Here,” Keith passed Lance a full bowl, “eat up.”

“What is it?”

“Real food,” Keith teased.

Lance shifted his bare feet, cradling the bowl to his chest with a strange look on his face. He met Keith’s eye, biting his bottom lip like a guilty kid.

“Can…can I eat in the nest?”

Keith blinked at him, stomach doing a weird flip-thing.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Lance grinned and padded from the kitchen, leaving Keith’s eyes to follow the almost too-short swish of his long shirt hem. Keith drew a long breath and turned to clean up his mess and finish putting away groceries. God…dammit, Lance was cute.

*

Keith moved Lance’s empty bowl from the bedside floor to the desk for fear of kicking it over. The Omega sprawled on top of the nest, shirt rucked halfway up his bare ass, arms folded neatly under his head, fast asleep. In the dim light of falling evening, Keith lowered himself on the side of the bed and watched Lance’s eyes dart under the pale blue of his lids. Thoughtfully, Keith hovered a hand over Lance’s back, feeling his body heat. Warm…good. He brushed two fingers over the soft exposure of Lance’s throat. Steady heat rate…good.

For a moment Keith just watched Lance breathe.

Then he stood, stepped out of his jeans, pulled his shirt off, and crawled into the nest beside the Omega. His arm looped over Lance’s stomach and the other hummed appreciatively, rolling at the slightest prompt to curl against Keith’s chest. Maybe it was Lance’s heat kicking Keith’s Alpha instincts into overdrive, or maybe it was the warm silence of the room, but Keith listened to the other’s heart beat clearly for what felt like hours before the slowly fading light lulled him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little fluff for this round. Thanks so much for the kind words and kudos, I appreciate every little one!  
> -Love gum_weed


	5. Chapter 5

“Favorite Vin Diesel movie.”

“Pass.”

“What?” Lance wailed, aiming a sharp elbow for Keith’s ribs, “you _have_ to have a favorite Vin Diesel movie! He’s Vin. Fucking. Diesel.”

“He’s a gimmick,” Keith deadpanned.

Lance’s mouth fell open in mock offense and Keith dodged another stab from the Omega’s elbow. Seriously, this kid was _all_ bones!

“Fine! Fine!” Keith laughed, snagging Lance’s arm and thinking for a moment, “I guess… _Saving Private Ryan_ wasn’t all bad.”

“He was in that for like…five seconds,” Lance pouted.

“Still a credited roll,” Keith shrugged, releasing the other’s arm.

They’d been talking since morning. Keith occasionally getting up to bring water or food. It’d been almost twelve hours since Lance’s last wave…an unusual length of time, but not unheard of. To fill the time, Keith cooked—mostly his own favorite foods, though he did manage to pull off a few of Lance’s Cuban recipes—and they watched movies on Keith’s phone. Lance turned out to be one of those people who talked through every fucking movie, but Keith found himself less irritated by the quirk than usual. Lance’s voice had a way of catching his ear.

Unfortunately, Keith’s movie inventory consisted mostly of documentaries and porn. The first because he enjoyed them, the second because they helped set the mood with shy clients. And since Lance pulled his hair out in boredom watching _Koyaanisqatsi_ , they’d settled on one of Keith’s tamer porn selections, barely paying attention to the poor acting and talking over the exaggerated dialogue.

“Okay,” Keith mused, “uh…favorite instrument.”

“Easy,” Lance grinned, wiggling his hips a bit in dance, “acoustic guitar.”

“Don’t tell me you’re an Ed Sheeran fan,” Keith groaned.

“Fuck off,” Lance said, eyes drawn to the screen, “he has a good voice.”

“Whatever,” Keith chuckled.

The light of the screen flickered over them in tones of blue, propped on a fold of blanket at the head of the nest. Both sprawled on their bellies—Keith in his boxers and Lance in his long shirt—the room hummed with a pleasant, intimate warmth. In the hours since they’d woke, neither strayed far from the other’s presence. They kept bumping into each other, laughing and apologizing every time. Fingertips brushed without intention. Lips quirked in small smiles. Keith found himself watching the other.

“Lance?” Keith said, pause drawing a bit longer than usual in their game of questions. Silence. The Alpha rolled his chin to peek. Lance’s face rested on his flat hands, expressive brow furrowed, eyes half-lidded, mouth drawn in an uninterpretable line. On the screen, one actor fucked into the other with exaggerated motions and groans, a caricature of sex. All at once, Keith realized how bad of an idea watching porn with Lance was. Virgin Lance. Impressionable Lance. Self-confidence deprived, traditionally raised, utterly naïve Lance.

Keith reached for his phone and shut it down, tossing it to the floor with a hollow thump before resting his head sideways on his folded arms.

“Hey,” Lance protested, “I was watching that.”

“It’s not real,” Keith shrugged.

Lance dropped his chin, brow still knitted. Beyond fighting urges, Keith sat up and rolled Lance over onto his side, dropping three chaste kisses to his forehead, brow, and lips. Lance put up a mock struggle, wiggling for a moment before going limp, grinning up at Keith in equal parts happiness and confusion. Glad to rid the other’s brow of its worried knit Keith set to massaging his fingertips into the taunt lines of the Omega’s shoulders and upper back, seeking out the knots of stitched muscle.

“You,” Lance grunted, melting under Keith’s touch, “are really good at this.”

“Practice,” Keith shrugged.

Lance went quiet, eyes dropping again. Keith let him come to his own voice this time, taking the silence as permission to continue his massage. His palms pressed over the defined ridges of Lance’s shoulder blades, kneading the joins of his arms, rubbing into the back of his neck. Finally, Lance propped himself up, halting Keith’s movements and drawing his full attention. The Omega’s eyes glazed, unbearably subdued.

“Keith,” Lance muttered, “what…okay, does…does it hurt?”

Keith blinked.

“Sex,” Lance clarified, the shells of his ears going pink.

“No,” Keith said.

Lance’s head slumped, “Yeah, but…you’re an Alpha.”

“It won’t hurt you either,” Keith pressed, touching Lance’s arm, feeling the goosebumps break over the other’s skin, “so long as we take our time.”

The echo of “we” hung heavy in the room. Keith bit at the inside of his lip. He hadn’t meant to…suggest they _would_ have sex. Sucking Lance off made Keith as happy as anything, and they could easily ride out the whole heat without penetration. Some Omegas, even after calling for Keith’s services, reserved knotting for serious mates. Keith was cool with that, to each his own. But Lance…Lance’s first time needed to be with someone who cared about him. Someone with his best intentions in mind. All it would take was one asshole Alpha to ruin all the progress Lance had made over the past few days. Not to mention the thought of Lance being with another Alpha scratched an uncomfortable pit in Keith’s stomach.

“Hey,” Keith said, kissing the side of Lance’s head, “let me show you?”

Lance flinched and Keith scrambled to clarify.

“I mean—I have some toys. Nothing wild. I could just…show you how it feels.”

Lance hesitated, shoulders tinted pink. Then… “O-okay. Um…maybe just a little? A-and you’ll stop if it’s too much, right?”

“Yes,” Keith said clearly, kissing the top of Lance’s head before exiting the nest to search for his synch sack. He hadn’t needed it since that first day, but the trusty sack slumped at the bedside regardless. Pawing through its contents, Keith picked a straightforward dildo—one the smaller side—some lube, and a vial of warming massage oil. Keith hefted the weight of the dildo in his palm, worried of its girth. Okay, it wasn’t _that_ big, and frankly it didn’t see as much use as Keith’s more eye-catching items, but for Lance…

“Here,” Keith said, offering the toy on a flat palm.

“Oh, god,” Lance flushed, burying his face.

“Lance,” Keith laughed, scooting up beside him, “it’s not a fucking snake. C’mon, just hold it.” He managed to pry Lance up from his embarrassed burrow, arranging him cross-legged and pressing the weighty object with its smooth, silicone casing into the Omega’s hands. Lance took it delicately, back stiff, gaze pinned straight ahead. Keith rolled his eyes and shook some oil into his palms, kneeling over Lance’s hunched shoulders and resuming his massage in full force, slick skin warming.

“Relax,” Keith instructed.

Lance’s 100-yard stare fell into a scowl. Oh, yeah sure, no problem Keith. Relax? Easy as cake. Piece of pie. Or…whatever. Dammit. Curiously, Lance ran his palm over the length of the toy, blush growing. Smooth. Not too long. Or thick. No knot. Finally, Lance looked down.

“It’s pink,” Lance muttered.

“Got a problem with pink?”

“No, I just…uhm…d-do dicks really look like this?”

“You have a dick,” Keith said, voice flat, “and you’ve seen my dick.”

“I _know_ ,” Lance stressed, “but…that was before I knew it would be…going inside me. Does this thing actually _fit_?”

“It’ll fit,” Keith said, nudging Lance’s shoulders forward instructionally. Lance swallowed, then untangled his legs, rising on his knees and passing the dildo back to Keith’s outstretched hand. Keith took the toy and vanished from line of sight, though the heat of his presence still ached at Lance’s back. The massage oil warmed Lance’s tense shoulders despite the absence of the other’s hands, smoothing the draw of his muscles. Nothing serious, right? They were just fooling around. Was it even considered sex if it was a dildo?

Keith’s voice came right in Lance’s ear.

“Bend over.”

“F-fuck, seriously?”

“Lance,” Keith said, hand on the small of the other’s back, “trust me.”

Lance sucked in a shuddering breath and leaned onto his hands, back flat, ass presented.

“Legs wider,” Keith said, palm sliding up Lance’s thigh. Swallowing hard, Lance inched his knees apart, the long hem of his shirt barely covering the spread of his cheeks. He felt ridiculous. And exposed. And— _pop!_ Lance flinched violently, breath hitching.

“Whoa,” Keith hummed, palm finding the Omega’s lower back again, “it’s just the lube cap. Calm down. This won’t feel good if you’re not relaxed.”

“Oh-okay,” Lance forced a deep breath, “okay, okay, okay…Keith?”

“I’m here,” Keith said, taking a moment to stroke up and down the other’s arced back. If not for his worry, Keith would’ve hardened at this sight alone. Lance on all fours, long shirt gathered just high enough to bare the bottommost curves of his ass and cock. He found it surprisingly easy to control himself though as he ran a warning palm up the back of Lance’s thigh, other hand gathering the loose shirt hem higher, exposing the presented Omega fully.

“I’m using fingers first,” Keith said.

“W-why?”

“To stretch you out,” Keith explained, trying to keep his voice even. Lance looked pretty tense from behind, his thighs shivering a bit and his hole furled. But just like every part of Lance Keith ached to draw pleasure from, his skin shone a soft, responsive pink, jolting when Keith’s thumb pressed and began to circle.

“You’re so warm,” Keith muttered.

“I-it’s wet,” Lance blurted, voice high.

“It’s lube,” Keith assured, trading his thumb for his pinky finger, just to be safe, and slowly pushing inside. Lance immediately tightened, making Keith stop. He waited for the synch of Lance’s ass to ease, petting the back of the other’s thigh with his free hand. Lance’s scent took on a nervous lilt, not unlike the sourness of his dry waves, but subtler. Keith hated it. Hated that Lance felt like this and not…well, good.

“Okay?” Keith said, pushing slowly again.

Suddenly the other’s elbows buckled, hips sliding back onto Keith’s finger with a long, low exhale. Keith swallowed, cock jolting in his boxers. Lance was incredibly slick inside—not surprising considering he’d been in full heat for almost four days—but also tight…like, tense tight meets virgin tight meets never-even-fingered-himself-before tight. Okay, even Keith’s smallest dildo might prove too much for him right now. Though he seemed to be enjoying the experimental curl of Keith’s finger.

“Fu—okay!” Lance flinched, “Okay, okay… _hah_.”

With Lance dropped on his elbows Keith leaned over him easily, keeping his finger deep and drawing level with the Omega’s ear.

“Hmm,” Keith hummed, feeling Lance tighten, “you’re doing so good. So hot. But…I bet you can do better, hmm? Do you want more?”

Lance whined, face hidden.

“You have to say it.”

“Oh my god, Keith—fine! I want more! I want more of you inside me.”

Keith chuckled, pulling out and switching for his index finger. He had more strength and control now, firmly rubbing at Lance’s top, bottom, and sides, working the skin over, stretching him wider. With Lance’s shirt hiked up to his shoulders Keith could appreciate the Omega’s growing erection, heavy skin curving openly between his spread legs.

“Ah,” Keith crooned, “good boy.”

Lance’s breath caught, eyes going hazy. Keith gave himself a mental pat on the back for nailing that praise kink suspicion. He took advantage of the other’s relaxed state and added another finger, pulling both out when he felt resistance and heard Lance’s breath hitch.

“F-fuck.”

“Sorry,” Keith rushed, reinserting just the one again and massaging slowly.

“It’s not…” Lance sighed with frustration, hips shivering as he adjusted himself lower, “it’s not like it’s…bad. It kinda stings. But…feels good.”

Keith paused, then worked on getting the second finger back in, slower this time, more careful of the tight skin and occasional clench. He felt Lance’s abdomen muscles sink and draw, reciprocating Keith’s curls, dips, and prods the only way he knew how. Painfully hard himself, Keith poured his focus into sneaking a few scissoring motions, leaning back from his hunched-over position to appreciate the sight of Lance’s slick-shining, pink rim shiver at the touch of a third fingertip. Deep, uneven breathing filled the room.

“How…how many are in?” Lance asked, voice barely more than air.

“Three,” Keith praised, curling all of them.

Lance’s hips stuttered, breath keening.

“You want more?” Keith teased.

“Yes.”

Keith balked, taken aback by the other’s sudden candor. Lance’s skin drew flush with the coloration of an oncoming wave, arced back bright with sweat, belly heaving. Pre-cum pearled his pretty slit, enticing the Alpha to skate his free fingertips along the length, paying special attention to the bobbing, wet head. Lance shied away from the touch with a drop of his hips, peering over his shoulder to meet Keith’s eye pleadingly. He wanted something else. Keith swallowed hard, drawing his fingers out and hefting the dildo.

As a warning, Keith trailed the toy’s tip up the inside of Lance’s thigh, encouraged when the Omega’s chest sunk lower, knees sliding farther apart. Keith pulled back to coat the silicone with a generous amount of lube, hooking a palm around Lance’s hip and touching the dildo’s tip to the skin of his hole. Gauging Lance’s reaction with several quick glances, Keith pushed, pulled back, and pushed again before settling on a sort of circling, twisting motion that had Lance’s breath squeaking.

It proved slow going. Keith struggled to read Lance’s reactions without his fingers feeling them in real time. Seeing the toy slide deeper in small, hesitant amounts stirred an ugly impulse in Keith’s navel. Namely, to toss the pathetic bit of plastic aside and fill Lance with _him_ instead. To drag in and out of the Omega’s unmarked entrance. To reach the deepest parts of him with firm, steady thrusts. Keith gritted his teeth, jaw aching, and lowered his hands.

“Wh…what’s wrong?” Lance shuddered, no doubt smelling Keith’s spike.

“Nothing,” Keith tried to sound certain, “it’s in.”

“All the way?” Lance piped, making to lift himself up.

“Wait—”

“Ah!” Lance flinched and sunk back down, tears springing.

“Sorry,” Keith said, stroking at Lance’s hips, “I should’ve warned you. Yeah, it’s all the way in, but you’re probably still not used to it. Let your body adjust. Move slowly.”

Hesitant, Lance rotated his hips, feeling himself filled. The Omega’s expression proved more curious than scared now. He arced and dropped his back several times before moving to lift himself again, more careful this time. Eventually he managed to return to his hands and knees, head craning in a ridiculous attempt to look down the length of his back. Realizing the improbability of the attempt he settled on sliding his knees apart wider and dropping his hips, biting his bottom lip at the pressure.

Keith pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle the rattle of his breath. Fuck, watching Lance move like this, the pink hilt of the dildo flush with his stretched rim…this could be dangerous. A fear Lance then ensured by rolling his head back, exposing his throat, fluttering his eyes shut, and swinging his hips forward in a hesitant, dry thrust.

Keith scent flared, cock jerking.

“Hhn—s-shit,” Keith scrambled from the bed, hoping he looked at least somewhat reassuring as he backed out of the room, palms splayed. “S-sorry. Sorry, Lance. Uhm, I’ll be right back. I just…I don’t want to…sorry.”

“I-it’s okay,” Lance stuttered, eyes hinting fear but mostly understanding.

Keith stumbled into the hall, closing the door behind him. In the Alpha’s wake, an incredibly thick, heady scent trailed like a thundercloud. Lance stared after him, several emotions warring in his stomach. Gratitude. Worry. Guilt. Disappointment? No, this was what Keith needed. He shouldn’t have to stay and suffer because Lance wasn’t ready to give himself over yet. A warm pool of immense appreciation bloomed in Lance’s stomach. Keith was so patient. So gentle. Somehow—incredibly—exactly what he needed.

Lance shifted, pressure reminding him of his…situation.

Carefully, Lance reached between his legs, feeling with his fingertips at his ass and the toy inserted there. Wow…it really was in, wasn’t it? Lance caught himself smiling. Oh, so he was a smug Omega now? Proved he could take a cock, didn’t he? Then again, he remembered Keith’s cock looking a lot bigger than this one. Not to mention his knot…

Something deep in Lance’s gut twitched. He felt himself warm around the dildo, squeezing and relaxing at the same time, wet heat overflowing and rolling down his inner thighs. Lube? No, Keith hadn’t used that much, had he? Lance searched with his fingertips again, hand coming back wet and slick. Huh…okay then? Selfishly, Lance wished Keith were here. Keith would know. Lance’s eyes darted to the door and his nose twitched, searching for the remnants of that swelling, boiling Alpha scent.

Lance rolled his hips forward, ears burning. It felt weird without Keith here, but _ahh_ …the pressure and the motion and the wet teased him to do it again, and again. Lance dropped his hips lower, seeking friction and finding it in the bunched pillows and blankets of his nest. Sucking in his bottom lip, Lance humped into a soft pillow, chills lifting at the sting in his ass. With Keith’s spiked scent lingering in the nest it was easy to imagine him there—warm hands hooked to Lance’s thighs, hipbones meeting his at every forward thrust, breath dripping heavy on the back of Lance’s neck.

“Hah,” Lance gasped, hunching over himself and taking advantage of everything Keith taught him. He pinched a peaked nipple with one hand and stroked the length of his cock with the other, making sure to grip firm over the base. Wet heat coated his ass and thighs, mixing with his pre-cum to slick the hollowing flat of his navel and stomach, too. When he reached release, he squeezed the muscles of his abdomen and ass around the filling presence of the dildo inside him, riding off his high with a series of soft, dry humps.

Spent, Lance flopped onto his belly. His body hummed with pleasure. Nothing like last time. Or even the times before. He’d done this by himself. No Keith. No Alpha. Just him and his body and his needs and…god, it felt good. Lance blinked away his urge to drift to sleep, wiggling an arm out from underneath himself and searching for the wetted hilt of the dildo. His clumsy fingertips slipped at the smooth silicone base. Once, twice…ah, fuck.

Lance winced, another failed attempt to get a grip on the dildo sending a jolt of pain up inside him. At a loss, Lance huffed, gaze sliding to the closed door. Was Keith okay? Moving slow, Lance crawled to the edge of the bed, placing a tentative foot to the floor while straightening out the long shirt all but wrapped around his neck. Standing felt weird. Walking felt weirder. But Lance padded across the bedroom and cracked open the door, peering out with a nose for Keith’s scent.

The Alpha’s desperate spike-smell lingered in the hallway, concentrating in front of the closed bathroom door. Lance heard water running and his worry eased some. Hyperaware of his slicked thighs, he knocked on the door, ear pressed to the wood.

“Keith?”

“Lance?”

Footsteps.

Then, in a billow of bath steam, the door opened. When Keith wore his hair down the dark strands took on a handsome wave – a shape currently exaggerated by the bathroom’s steam. A towel hung around his bare shoulders, boxers riding low on his hips. With the door open the overwhelming scent of Keith’s previous arousal…and subsequent release…wrapped Lance in a warm cocoon. Lance’s chest ached at the comfort of it. Why couldn’t they have done this together? It would’ve been nice…

“Are you okay?” Lance asked.

Keith went a bit pink.

“Y-yeah,” he muttered, palm finding the crook of his neck, “sorry about that. Um, you’re okay, right?”

“Yes,” Lance grinned, suddenly finding the whole situation funny, “I, uhm…I’m having a little trouble getting it out though.”

Keith blinked.

“It’s…still in?”

Lance nodded, catching the dart of the Alpha’s eye.

“Ah,” Keith cleared his throat, taking Lance’s wrist and guiding him into the warmth of the bathroom. He closed the door. The tub brimmed with inviting water, no bubbles this time though. Keith arranged Lance in front of the sink, instructing him to bend over a little. Lance’s skin jumped when Keith’s hand came up under the long hem of his shirt from behind, fingers finding the toy’s hilt and pressing up inside Lance briefly to get a better grip. With Keith’s guidance, the dildo slid out easily, leaving Lance dripping on the tile.

Keith touched at the slick of Lance’s thigh.

“Huh,” he hummed.

“What?” Lance asked, worried.

“Nothing,” Keith assured him, kissing the back of the Omega’s neck, “it’s just a kind of natural lubricant your body produces. Given your track of dry heats I didn’t think we’d see any this time, but…you’re doing really good.”

Lance preened a bit at the praise, knees coming together to mitigate the wet. Keith placed the dildo in the sink for later cleaning and wrapped his arms around Lance’s stomach, kissing the back of his neck a few more times.

“Were you gonna bath?” Lance asked, shy.

“Yeah,” Keith said around a lip-full of Lance’s neck, “you wanna join?”

“Yes!” Lance sang, shrugging Keith back so he could properly remove his shirt. Keith laughed, giving Lance’s becoming body an appreciative once-over before offering a hand to help him into the tub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure smut to balance the fluff.  
> -Love gum_weed


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ve never seen you like this.”

Keith glanced up from the overnight-bag Shiro brought. Five days into the job and Keith’s clothes smelled awful. He borrowed one of Lance’s shirts today, but he still felt gross. Having a full set of his own clean clothes sounded too good to pass up, so, since Shiro had a day off today, he’d called to see if the other would be willing to drop off some much-needed supplies. He’d brought one or two of Keith’s textbooks, too, always riding his “little brother’s” ass about keeping on top of course work even if they were currently on break.

“You’ve seen me at work before,” Keith huffed.

Their jobs could sometimes be an awkward conversation point. Though early on they both decided to keep mature about everything and remain open to discussion. Neither wished an iota of unhappiness on the other so checking in on-the-daily was law. Keith explained his current situation to Shiro via text after that first day and though the other seemed apprehensive at first, he settled on supportive, as usual.

Shiro’s mouth cocked with that smug, knowing smile Keith hated. Keith considered himself pretty good a hiding the inner workings of his brain, but god damn, Shiro saw right through him every fucking time. It’d be infuriating if Keith hadn’t come to depend on it so much.

“That’s not what I mean,” Shiro reiterated, leaning against the doorframe, “you really like this kid, don’t you?”

“He needed my help,” Keith dodged.

“Oh,” Shiro snorted, “so this little smile and glow-thing you’ve got going on is entirely due to your commitment to humanitarianism?”

Keith scowled.

“I am not _glowing_.”

“Keith,” Shiro said, face serious, “you’re brighter than a Christmas tree.”

Both Alphas startled at the sound of a door opening. Lance shuffled into the hall with a more-asleep-than-awake haze about him. Thankfully he wore his long shirt, freshly washed alongside half of the nesting material by Keith the night before. The damn thing really was too big for his skinny frame though and even though it was just _Shiro_ , Keith felt protective over the Omega’s bare thighs and shoulders.

“Keith,” Lance muttered, rubbing his eye, “have you seen my—”

He froze, eyes growing comically wide at the stranger standing in his doorway.

“Oh,” he said, then turned-heel and darted back into the bedroom.

Keith groaned. Way to rile the client up, Kogane.

“Ah,” Shiro grinned, “he’s cute. I get it now.”

“Out,” Keith ordered, all but slamming the door on Shiro’s nose.

*

Lance woke to the sound of rain, a small smile playing across his lips even in his sleep. He cocked his head groggily and rolled over. The blinking light of his bedside alarm clock read 2:34 in the morning. From under a propped corner of the pulled curtain, Lance could just see the lower windowpane and the rain that traced the glass there. Fog gathered close outside and Lance’s chest ached at the missed opportunity to go walking. He loved rain. Loved it. Forget the late hour, he just wanted to throw on a slicker, grab his multicolored umbrella, and be outside, feeling the cool water touch his upturned face.

Suppressing a sigh, Lance cast around for the dark shape he’d grown familiar with sleeping beside. He spotted the rise of Keith’s shoulders against the wall. The Alpha curled tightly, the complete opposite of his usual four-limbed sprawl. Lance knew without asking that Keith was an only child. Only an only child, unaccustomed to sharing everything, would hog a bed the way he did. Why was he…?

A small noise joined the tapping of the rain.

Thin and high.

Crying?

Lance rolled onto his knees and crawled to Keith’s side, his heart in his throat. Careful, so not to startle him, Lance touched the barest edge of his fingertips to Keith’s cheek. The Alpha’s face was hot. Brow contorted. Eyelashes wet. Still asleep though. A nightmare?

“Keith,” Lance whispered, giving the other’s shoulder a small shake.

Keith’s body tensed and he sat up in a rush, forehead smacking Lance’s jaw. Lance clapped a palm to his chin with a shout and they both reeled.

“Ow!”

“S-shit. Lance?”

“Yeah. Okay, _ouch_.”

“Ah,” Keith shook his head to orient himself, nightmare or terror or whatever forgotten as he rolled up on his knees and reached for Lance’s face. Lance turned away in a completely petty gesture, giving the other the best stink eye he could manage through a pout. Okay, it had scared him more than anything, but _dammit_ Keith’s forehead was fucking hard.

“Sorry,” Keith stressed, “sorry, sorry. You woke me up.”

“Because you were crying,” Lance jabbed, scooting farther from the Alpha’s apologetic hands. Lance’s words gave Keith pause, hands held mid-reach, face unseen in the dark. After a tense moment he settled back with his legs crossed beneath him.

“I was?”

“Yes,” Lance muttered.

“Oh.”

Keith’s hands splayed on his thighs. He didn’t seem to want to pursue it any farther. Lance considered letting it go. He could crawl over onto Keith’s lap and listen to the rain until one or both drifted off again. Who was he to pry? But…the twist of the sleeping Alpha’s brow tightened like a bowstring in Lance’s gut. Dropping his act, Lance cautiously knee-walked closer, catching the drawing tension in Keith’s shoulders. He didn’t want to talk about this either, it seemed.

“Um,” Lance managed, voice low, “are you okay?

“Yeah,” Keith said a little too quickly.

Swallowing his hesitation, Lance turned and settled his shoulder against Keith’s side, knees drawing up to his chest. He waited, heart hammering, until Keith relaxed with a long breath and lifted an arm over the Omega’s skinny shoulders, pulling him closer against his side.

“You know,” Lance said after a moment, “this might come as a surprise to you, but I cried a lot as a kid. Like, all the time. ‘You’ll drown us all with those crocodile tears,’ my mother said…which made me cry harder.”

Keith grinned into the crown of Lance’s hair.

“What,” he teased, “strong Omega like you, crying?”

“Buckets!” Lance laughed, nudging Keith’s ribs with his elbow, “let me guess – you were a door-slammer as a kid.”

Keith’s grin broadened.

“Wall-puncher?” Lance tried again, “Vandalizer? Hooky?”

“I ran away a lot,” Keith said, words almost lost in Lance’s hair.

Lance stilled, smile faltering.

The rain drummed on the rooftop and sidewalks outside. Swelling and thinning as the thunderheads rolled. The nest felt like a bubble. The eye of the storm. Most bed do at 3 in the morning. Lance brushed the back of Keith’s hand, relieved when he rolled his palm so Lance could twine their fingers. He found himself hoping Keith felt the same way right now. Even if it wasn’t his own bed.

“Weren’t you scared?” Lance asked, quietly, oh so quietly.

“I…” Keith’s sure voice faltered.

Lance listened to Keith’s heart for what felt like hours.

“It was easier to run away,” Keith finally said, each word chosen carefully, “than be left behind. Or turned away. Or given away. Or…forgotten, I guess.”

Lance’s brow furrowed. What should he say? He didn’t know Keith’s past. Hell, he barely knew him now. He had mentioned foster homes though. A “shitty” childhood.

“What about Shiro?” Lance asked, remembering the other Alpha.

“Hah,” Keith huffed, “yeah, eventually I met Shiro. And he wouldn’t _let_ me run. So…it’s better now, I guess. But I still…” he trained off, then rushed ahead, “I still feel that way sometimes. The way I felt when I was a kid. Like everything good is going to go away. Like I could just walk out right now and not be missed—”

“That’s stupid.”

Keith balked.

“I’m serious,” Lance said, pushing back from Keith’s chest to meet the Alpha’s startled eyes. “Keith, ‘walking out’ is the only certain way to lose everything good. You can’t seriously think that pushing people away protects you from losing people? That’s…okay, that’s so ass-backwards _only_ a child would think like that. Also—”

Lance aimed a punch at Keith’s shoulder.

“ _Ow!_ ”

“—don’t you fucking dare think you wouldn’t be missed because I’ve know you less than a week and I _know_ I’d miss you—” Lance cut off, face flushing bright pink. Oh, no – had he just let that slip? “I mean…Shiro…I-I’m sure he’d miss you. And uh, you’re…other friends.” Lance finished lamely, burrowing his face back under Keith’s chin to hide his blush. He could feel the other’s grin against the crown of his head and he briefly considered returning Keith’s headbutt just to shut him up.

“Thanks Lance,” Keith chuckled, carding through the Omega’s hair with his fingertips, nails scratching occasionally, “it’s, uh…good to hear that from others sometimes.”

Lance made a noncommittal noise into Keith’s throat though his belly took on a pleasant warmth at the Alpha’s words. In leu of Lance’s rambling the sound of the rain returned, quiet yet still somehow washing over them both. Keith’s hand eventually dropped, his breath deepening as he drifted off again. Lance made a point to keep himself pressed against the Alpha’s chest, hoping a warm body to hold would stave off the other’s nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind words and kudos!  
> -Love gum_weed


	7. Chapter 7

Lance sang in the shower.

Something Keith found he appreciated more than was probably healthy. Especially since most of the songs Lance sang were in Spanish. Keith loved when Lance spoke Spanish. Loved when he defaulted to his native tongue at the peak of arousal. Loved when Spanish words dropped into his flustered sentences. Loved when he swore in Spanish. It was cute.

Keith looked up from his textbook when Lance came into the bedroom, towel around his swinging hips. He was still singing, but without much investment, just low and thoughtless and switching lazily between humming and vocalizing as he dried his hair. The sort-of-dancing seemed unintentional, too. Just movement. Just comfort. Lance’s neck and shoulders turned ten shades of pink when he noticed Keith staring.

“Ah,” Keith mock-whined, “don’t stop.”

“What?” Lance snorted, wiggling his hips, “you want a free show?”

“Wait, seriously?” Keith asked, closing his textbook.

Lance’s blush deepened at the earnest interest in the Alpha’s voice. In truth, he loved dancing. But like…not _lap_ dancing, or anything like that. Well, okay, he’d never tried actual lap dancing but when he said he liked dancing he meant fun, carefree, party-type dancing. Dancing at street festivals. Dancing at bonfires. Dancing at weddings. But…fuck, Keith looked so taken by the prospect and really, what had Lance done for Keith lately? The Alpha bent over backwards to make sure Lance was happy, often at his own expense. What was one little dance compared to that?

Lance turned around, half to hide his embarrassment and half to show off his ass as he began to move slowly. Feet giving little half-steps, hips rolling side to side, hands carrying the motions up and out and into the air with a flick of his fingertips. It wasn’t a real dance. Definitely not a real “sexy” dance. But Lance liked the movement and he hummed under his breath and defaulted to his usual mindset while dancing, somewhere between awareness and daydream. A bit cocky, Lance settled his hands on his waist and eased the towel off his hipbones, exaggerating a belly roll and turning around in the same motion.

He squeaked to find Keith standing _right fucking there_.

The Alpha stood at some point and crossed the small space between them, dark eyes transfixed, hands coming to rest over Lance’s at the crest of his hips. He pulled the Omega against him and ghosted half-parted lips over the hollow of Lance’s throat, air whistling in over his teeth and tongue. Lance swallowed and let him, leaning into his heat. The strange thought occurred to Lance that Keith could hold him like this in the middle of a storm and not get buffeted in the slightest. He was that steady.

“What are you doing?” Lance asked, curious.

Keith breathed in again before answering, slow and deep and drunken.

“Scenting,” the Alpha muttered.

“Ah,” Lance said, still in the dark.

“I’m just,” Keith continued, sensing the other’s confusion, “taking in your scents. Uh…tasting them. Familiarizing myself. Exploring. It helps to know how you smell at different times because then I can read you better.”

Okay, so this was an Alpha thing.

Lance dropped his forehead to Keith’s shoulder, listening to him breath low and long into the crook of his neck. Lance didn’t know many Alphas back home. They kept fairly separate in his family, and anytime an Alpha was present Lance couldn’t help but feel afraid…or at least mindful. Of respect. Of instinct. Of his own body and how that body could serve an Alpha who took interest. Had he ever seen his father scent his mother like this? No, no, nope, nuh-uh. Way too intimate. They barely held hands for god’s sake.

He guessed…in a way that made him sad.

His Omega mother and sisters always treated him so affectionately. Hugging, kissing, cuddling, squeezing his cheeks—he hated that one—spending time with him, talking, giving him presents. But around an Alpha, they folded themselves up like dolls. Hands in their laps. Eyes downcast. Lance had, too. Just as he’d been taught.

“See now,” Keith muttered, bringing Lance back, “you smelled really good before. Confident. Playful. But now, you smell sad.”

“Sorry,” Lance blurted.

Keith chuckled, pulling back to meet Lance’s eye. He lifted a hand to brush his knuckles over the Omega’s jawline, still holding him close.

“Don’t apologize,” Keith said, and maybe he should’ve sounded exasperated with Lance’s readiness to apologize, his eagerness to please Keith just because he was an Alpha. They’d made so much progress, it seemed silly for Lance to still default to this mindset every time Keith expressed the smallest discontentment for his actions or emotions. But Keith knew this road stretched longer than breaking Lance’s dry heat and giving him a few good orgasms. He was fighting an entire upbringing. Years of tradition. A lifetime of viewing Alphas as untouchable, undeniable, figures of absolute authority.

“Here,” Keith said, rolling his head to his shoulder, exposing his throat in a very un-Alpha way, “you try.”

“Seriously?” Lance balked.

“Yep,” Keith said, closing his eyes expectantly.

Lance blinked, eyes sliding to the white stretch of Keith’s throat. That arc of muscle he loved. The pulse just under the skin. The bob of his Adam’s apple. Weird. This felt weird. Like Lance should look away or lower his head or something. Keith waited patiently and after a long moment, Lance met his instincts halfway and closed his eyes before brushing his mouth to Keith’s throat. He felt the Alpha shiver and preened at the reaction.

Being this close to Keith’s smell proved a bit overwhelming. Lance moved his hands to Keith’s sides to steady himself, thrilled when the Alpha reciprocated the squeeze. Lance’s understanding of Keith’s scent began and ended with one word: Alpha. That’s all there was to it, right? That dark undercurrent. That heady weight. That commanding aura. Yeah, most Alpha’s smelled like that. Even when brushing up against one on the bus or sitting next to one in class. Lance usually tried to block it out. It seemed invasive to investigate further.

Lance breathed in again, trying to mimic Keith’s depth and concentration. His eyes fluttered open in surprise. Keith smelled kinda…smoky. Campfire-smoky. And hot. Like, sun and sand hot, but not like the beach, more like the desert. Oh, and rum cake. No icing. Nothing fancy. Just simple, honest rum cake. And…worry. Concern. Anticipation. Protection—that one was big. A fierce, prickly need to protect. Chills lifted over Lance’s arms and neck, a full-body shiver raking down his back.

“Lance?”

Keith’s voice came close to his ear. Lance swallowed, blinking to clear his head. Without really thinking about it, Lance lifted his palms to Keith’s chest and pushed. More from surprise than anything, Keith stepped back. Lance followed, pushing again, pushing him back, back, back, until his legs hit the edge of the mattress and he sat, eyes dark with confusion. Lance straddled Keith’s lap, towel straining around his waist, and he pushed the Alpha one more time until he lay flat beneath him.

Lance could feel Keith’s hard-on. Could feel the heat rising from his skin. Could _smell_ his arousal clearly—an extra dousing of “rum” on top of that rum cake scent. Between the dancing and the scenting they were both turned on, and like hell Lance was going to let Keith be alone this time. Lance measured the other’s heartrate with a flat palm over the center of his chest, watching Keith’s eyes as his pupils dilated and his pulse picked up double-time.

“Keith,” Lance murmured, “can we do this?”

He watched Keith swallow, heard his dry mouth stick.

“Yes,” Keith said, and Lance believed him.

Lance kissed him. Leaning down slowly and pressing their lips together. Keith kissed back, hands finding Lance’s bare sides, feeling his skin jump at the touch. Keith loved when Lance reacted to him like that. Needy scents built up between their bodies, but they moved slow regardless. Every touch intended. Every kiss complete.

Keith took a firmer grip on Lance’s sides and reversed their positions, rolling the Omega until Keith knelt over him. Following the wander of Lance’s eyes, Keith pulled his shirt over his head, letting it drop away before tapping at the knot of Lance’s towel askingly. Lance nodded and propped his hips enough for Keith to pull the towel away. The rush of cold air made him shiver. Here, Keith paused. He watched the rise and fall of Lance’s stomach. Memorized the hollow of his navel. Noted the way his tawny skin shifted over his ribs. So, so beautiful.

Keith found one of Lance’s ankles and pulled it up, kissing the bone fondly before resting the Omega’s leg over his shoulder. Lance’s other knee fell wider at the touch of Keith’s fingertip against his hole, entrance already wet. He found himself wanting to warm the cold touch of Keith’s hands. Make the Alpha burn as hot as he felt. When Keith pressed a fingertip in, Lance rolled his hips up, taking more without the other’s intention. Keith caught on quickly though, kneading in up to his knuckle, feeling Lance pull him inside. A second finger followed the first, prompting a pulse of Lance’s natural lubricant.

Keith steady breath stuttered. He felt the warmth and the wet spread over him. Lance’s lower back arced into the praising curl of Keith’s fingers, little gasps joining the concentrated silence. Keith took this as permission to exploit Lance’s praise kink. And yeah, Keith was usually a pretty quiet guy, but when it came to praising Lance, he could talk all night.

“You know,” Keith hummed, touching a third finger to Lance’s stretched entrance, “I’ve thought about this every time I’ve taken care of myself since I met you. Imagined the way you’d sound. The way you’d feel. But _ooh_ , nothing compares to this.”

Third finger in, Lance gasped, cock beaded with pre-cum.

“You’re so good,” Keith swallowed, meaning it. He’d never meant anything more.

The Omega’s gaped mouth pouted when Keith pulled out, lowering Lance’s ankle off his shoulder and lifting himself up to work at the button and zipper of his own jeans. Rocking up on his sit bones, Lance tangled his fingers through Keith’s loose hair while the other wiggled out of his jeans and boxers. In truth, Lance hadn’t seen Keith’s cock yet—like, _really_ seen it. Shyness and respect usually averted his gaze. But he drank it in greedily now, pulse jumping at its weight, shape, color, and…anatomical variance.

Keith’s knot budded at the base of his shaft, a tight knit of reddish skin. Lance knew it would swell when Keith neared release. Anchoring the Alpha inside him and stoppering any loss of cum. On a reproduction level, the knot wouldn’t matter with Lance. As a male Omega he couldn’t reproduce. But Lance knew it felt good for Alphas. More than anything he wanted Keith to feel good with him for once.

Noticing the draw of the Omega’s gaze, Keith smirked and settled down on his knees, cock fully presented.

“You wanna feel it?” Keith asked.

Lance’s tongue flicked over his lip and Keith’s stomach dropped.

The Omega scooted closer, eyes all hesitation and uncertainty. He dropped a hand to the flat of Keith’s thigh, stroking the pale skin there for a moment before inching up. Lance’s touch caused immediate pleasure-pain and Keith’s head dropped back, stomach synching. Lance jerked back as though he’d hurt the other, but Keith caught his wrist and shook his head, lips tight.

“It’s good,” Keith shuddered, “it feels good.”

“Really?” Lance squeaked.

Keith hummed in approval, guiding Lance’s hand back to the curve of his cock. Lance trailed his fingers up Keith’s length a few times before wrapping his whole hand around. He weighed Keith’s girth, heartrate picking up a bit. Keith was big. Shit—too big? Without intending to, Lance’s stroke passed over Keith’s knot and the Alpha’s hips jolted, the skin of his chest taking on a dark flush. He caught Lance’s wrist with a warning grunt, slit welling with pre-cum. Wow…that sensitive?

Lance tried swallowing the heartbeat in his throat a few times as Keith leaned forward, laying the Omega on his back again. Lance’s knees fell open around Keith’s hips, inviting him despite the rattle of his heart. But of course— _of course_ —Keith caught on. The Alpha’s dark eyes sought Lance’s out, holding them for a moment before he offered a fond smile.

“Hey,” Keith murmured, palms stroking the outer of Lance’s thighs, “it’s okay. We’ll go slow. I’ll be careful. Tell me if it’s too much. I won’t knot you.”

Something in Lance’s stomach fluttered in disappointment. No…he wanted Keith to feel good too. Why did he have to be so scared of this?

“But,” Lance blurted, finding Keith’s hand and squeezing their fingers together, “uhm…i-if I want to, I can ask…right?”

Keith blinked, then chuckled.

“Let’s just try this first,” he said, dropping his hips and touching the tip of his cock to Lance’s hole. Lance tightened instinctually but caught himself and made a conscious effort to relax. Keith waited for a moment before pushing – not with a lot of force, or a thrust – but with a steady, light pressure. Lance felt himself take Keith’s tip in and dropped his head back in surprise. Warm. Keith was so warm.

“More?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded, tight lipped.

Keith pressed again, hips taking on more of a thrusting motion, easing out before pushing in. The Alpha’s controlled insertion had Lance’s hips stuttering to meet him. Lance winced when their combined movements pulled Keith in farther than either planned.

“Easy now,” Keith crooned, hands dropping to pin Lance’s waist.

After allowing a moment for stretching, Keith resumed his movements, brow furrowed in concentration, skin bright with sweat. Lance watched Keith slide inside him with hazy eyes. Keith looked so focused. Those spikes of desperate scent seemed lifetimes away, replaced instead by a bloom of scent Lance loved, loved, _loved_. Spiced and warm and affectionate. Struck by need, Lance pawed after Keith’s face, drawing the Alpha in for a slow kiss. They both huffed at Keith’s final thrust, his hipbones meeting Lance’s thighs as he bottomed out.

“Ha!” Lance laughed.

Keith cocked a brow which Lance met with a smug tilt of his chin.

“You fit.”

Keith laughed this time, low and breathy. Lance carded his fingers through Keith’s hair, dark strands brushing his face. He felt _all_ of Keith inside him, filling him, pressing him, warming him. Amazing. So much warmer than his fingers. Or the dildo. But he knew from the controlled knit of Keith’s brow that the Alpha needed to move – soon. Beyond inhibition, Lance arced his back and let out a loud sigh, one he knew would drive Keith crazy.

Yep.

The Alpha shuddered, all down his back and arms and god, Lance even felt him shudder inside him. His dark eyes took on a pleading softness. Lance drew Keith’s parted lips against his own, licking into the others mouth in invitation. Keith groaned in gratitude, chest falling flush with Lance’s, tongue taking control of the kiss as his hips began to move in earnest.

At first, all Lance could do was _hold on_. Hold on to Keith’s shoulders tight as the Alpha fucked into him long and deep. His tongue rolled, lifted, pinned, and licked Lance’s in a one-sided battle. Hot palms touched at Lance’s face, neck, chest, and sides, never staying one place long before hungrily grasping the next. The sound of their sweat-slicked skin meeting and parting painted Lance’s ears bright pink, but everything was heat and pleasure and touch and motion and good, good, _good_. Bothered by the loose bob of his knees, Lance wrapped his legs around Keith’s waist and locked his heels at the small of his back, granting the Omega more options for movement.

Lance tilted up curiously, meeting one of Keith’s downward thrusts with poor timing and making both of them jolt. He tried to pinpoint the muscles that would pull Keith deeper, hollowing his stomach and navel and flexing his upper thighs. Keith shuddered and picked up speed, hands anchoring at Lance’s hips again to steady them both. They kissed sporadically, breaking for hitched breaths, neither really getting enough air to calm the aching in their lungs. Lance forgot about Keith’s knot until the other gave a bone-deep shiver and squeezed him close, hips fixing in a forward thrust.

“ _Haah_ ,” Keith gasped.

Lance cried out. Hot. Hot inside. Keith was coming inside him. Lance latched his arms around Keith’s neck, scratching over the impossibly tense draw of his shoulders in encouragement. Wet slicked the hollows where Lance’s thighs met his groin, hole brimming with Keith and Keith’s cock and Keith’s cum. Lance dug his heels harder, trying to speak but only managing an obscene groan.

Keith relaxed all at one, head dropping to the crook of Lance’s neck.

“You…” Lance panted, pawing clumsily at Keith’s back, “I w-wanted…you…”

“I know,” Keith huffed, smiling into Lance’s neck, “I know. Hang on.”

His palm dropped to Lance’s still-hard cock, stroking firmly. Lance’s vision whited-out, mouth falling open in a silent cry as he came almost immediately, cum coating both his and Keith’s heaving stomachs. It took a solid minute or two before Lance came back around, limbs splayed, body jelly. Keith’s cock still rested inside him, different feeling now that it wasn’t fully erect. Keith petted the shine of sweat from Lance’s brow, both of their breathing still heavy.

“Good?” Keith managed.

Lance nodded, and nodded, and nodded, mouth open.

“Y-yes,” he finally got out, “b-but that’s…not what I w-wanted.”

Keith’s brow lifted.

“I want your knot,” Lance said, voice even.

“I—” Keith started, then faltered. He looked a bit panicked actually.

Lance ran his fingers through Keith’s hair again. It was quickly becoming his favorite thing to do. The feeling seemed mutual based on the flutter of Keith’s eyelids. Lance let the Alpha find his words, drinking in the scent of his afterglow.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Keith finally muttered.

Lance paused, studying Keith’s face. He looked ashamed.

“You won’t,” Lance shrugged.

“I bite,” Keith blurted, “I’m a biter. And…once I knot you it’s not like I can pull out if it hurts. It doesn’t work like that. I don’t know what I’d do if—”

“Keith,” Lance interrupted, squishing the Alpha’s face between his palms, “calm down. I know what I’m asking for. I can take it. I want this. And, uh…you can bite if you want. Just…maybe not the neck?”

Keith’s dark eyes pleaded with his for a moment.

Lance sighed, petting back Keith’s hair.

“I just,” he paused, then went for it, “I want it to be you.”

A strange look came over Keith’s face. Another one of those Alpha-looks Lance had a hard time figuring out. He tried scenting the other instead, breathing in deep. Concern again. Bigger this time. Worry loomed like a supercell. His protection-scent had taken on a selfish edge, underscored by guilt. Lance’s brow knitted, trying to figure it out.

Wait.

“You want to,” Lance ventured, eyes widening, “you want to be my first. You want…” he faltered, “…me? You want me?”

Keith dropped his gaze.

“I want you to be happy,” he said, firm, final.

“Keith…”

“And what if I’m not the best one to make sure that happens?”

“Keith—”

“I’m the first— _only_ —Alpha you’ve ever been with, Lance! What if you just don’t know any better? What if this is your shitty upbringing talking? Telling you to get with the first Alpha to get you in bed? What if you end up liking Betas better? It’d be a hell of a lot easier on you to cut Alphas from your life altogether! Hell, what if you find another _Omega_ who knows exactly how you feel. Who knows how to calm you. Who knows what to say. And _what if I hurt you_ , Lance? What if…”

Keith petered out, scared to silence by the whites of Lance’s eyes. Panicked, he tried smelling him. Tried reading him. His scent and expression were both foreign. Proving Keith’s fears. Driving them like a stake to the gut. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t good for Lance. Wasn’t the Alpha Lance needed. Just a fucking escort called by a scared Omega who didn’t know any better—

“Keith,” Lance said, steady.

The tickertape racing in Keith’s brain stuttered, then stopped. Lance’s hands brushed over his face, thumbs tracing his cheekbones, his nose, his eyelids, his forehead. Keith actually felt his heart slow with every beat. Felt the synch leave his lungs. He leaned into Lance’s touch with abandon, finally putting a name to the foreign scent swelling at the Omega’s throat. It was Keith’s scent, echoed back. Concern. Worry. And _want_.

“You’ve been so good to me,” Lance muttered, “so, so good. Where did all these thoughts come from, huh? Silly Alpha, working yourself up over nothing.”

Keith’s chest hurt.

He whined. He hadn’t whined since he was a kid.

“Shh,” Lance hummed, tugging a fistful of hair.

Taking a deep breath, Keith caught Lance’s wrist, holding the Omega in place as he sat up and pulled out. Wet spilled onto the sheets beneath them and Lance winced, feeling empty. For a moment he thought Keith was going to leave, but the Alpha just leaned back on his heels and regarded Lance with an expression bordering on resignation.

“Up,” Keith finally instructed, offering a hand.

Lance took Keith’s hand eagerly, almost-pain twitching inside him when he moved. He shivered to think of the burn as Keith’s mark. One the Omega bore proudly.

Keith sat cross-legged with his back to the wall, the same position he took the first time he came with Lance. Blood pounding in his ears, Lance climbed onto Keith’s lap, tripping up in his eagerness and nearly headbutting Keith’s chin.

“Sorry,” Lance mumbled, settling over Keith’s hips.

Keith gave a short laugh, catching Lance’s shoulders and pulling the Omega in for a long kiss. Lance’s eyelids drooped, his heartbeat calming as Keith’s hands stroked his sides, mouth gentle against his. Sneaky Alpha. He could put Lance to sleep like this. Determined, Lance began to grind softly, swallowing Keith’s hitched breath. Their cocks pressed together, neither very hard, but both twitching with interest. Struck by a chord of boldness, Lance left Keith’s mouth with a wet _pop_ and fixed his lips to the Alpha’s throat, licking and sucking gently for a moment before giving a more-lip-than-tooth bite.

“You little—” Keith grunted, tugging the Omega’s head back by a gentle fistful of short, brown hair. Lance grinned, giving a firm hip-drop against Keith’s semi-hard cock.

The Alpha flinched, laugh shaky.

“Okay,” Keith said, voice playfully low. He lifted Lance higher with one palm under his thigh, lining himself up with his free hand and giving Lance’s peaked nipple a soft bite before letting him fall. Lance sucked in a hard breath, teeth gritting as Keith filled him completely in one go. He was still pretty loose and wet from before, but Keith’s heat was breathtaking and even half-hard the stretch stung. Lance’s navel twitched and he couldn’t stop the little whine that fell from his parted lips.

“You okay?” Keith asked in a rush, palms finding the sides of Lance’s face.

Lance laughed, shifting a little.

“I’m fine,” he groaned, “you’re just… _hah_ —od, good, you’re so, so good, Keith.”

Lance moved. He couldn’t help it. Keith probably set them up this way so he wouldn’t have the positional advantage this time – a failsafe, if you will. But Lance, surprisingly, found himself more than willing to take control. He dug his fingers into Keith’s shoulders and rose slightly on his knees, feeling Keith’s length slide out of him before dropping back down again with a sigh. His head lolled to the side, eyes fluttering.

“Fuck,” Keith breathed, cold palms holding Lance’s thighs.

Having come once, Lance was in no rush. He coaxed them both to full hardness with achingly slow movements. Lance liked watching the sweat build on Keith’s brow and collarbone. He liked following the grit of Keith’s jaw, the waver of his eyes. More than anything he liked causing Keith’s mouth to go slack whenever he bottomed out on top of him. He stopped short of the Alpha’s knot every time, equal parts shying away from its girth and seeking to draw-out Keith’s build as long as possible.

“Keith,” Lance shuddered, “tell me wh-when.”

“Now,” Keith gritted, “now, please—fuck.”

Keith’s grip slid to the crests of Lance’s hipbones, fingers digging into the soft skin there. He met the Omega’s eye as a warning, then pushed him down, thrusting up at the same time. Lance sucked in a series of hiccupping pants, feeling himself open to Keith’s knot. It swelled in pulses and Lance settled himself deeper with each one, jaw slack, eyes foggy. He dimly felt Keith’s teeth in his shoulder, the Alpha’s fingernails leaving half-moon bruises on his hips. Lance fixed his hands in Keith’s hair, somehow finding the coordination to scrape along Keith’s scalp in encouragement. His own release barely registered in wake of the heat.

After a long, long moment, the tension in Keith’s body relaxed. He breathed heavily into Lance’s shoulder, teeth still sunk. Lance winced when he felt warm wet sliding down his chest. Blood? The idea didn’t bother him as much as it maybe should have. Hazy, but curious, Lance shifted his hips, sucking in a sharp breath at the sting. Stuck. No, _knotted_. Lance shivered, lazily resuming his stroking through Keith’s hair. This seemed to rouse the other and Keith gave a small sigh, finally lifting his mouth from Lance’s skin.

“Sorry,” Keith managed, voice wrecked. He licked Lance’s shoulder and the mark the now bled there, welling gently.

“Don’t apologize,” Lance said.

“You’re bleeding,” Keith murmured.

Lance’s stomach synched at the regret and guilt riding high in the Alpha’s voice.

“Yeah,” Lance hummed, fingertips fighting Keith’s tongue to touch at the tender bite, “it feels…not bad. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt.”

Keith continued running the flat of his tongue over the mark. The metallic sting of blood tasted sweet in his mouth. Better than he imagined. But god, the bite looked bad. Red and weeping and starting to swell. Keith jolted when Lance shifted again, grip stiffening to steady the Omega’s hips. He didn’t want Lance to hurt himself. He knotted pretty deep. Deeper than he’d wanted to. He couldn’t recall ever getting so big before either. Fuck, it probably hurt.

“You okay?” Keith asked, stroking Lance’s thigh.

“Mm.”

The other’s voice sounded…off.

“Lance?” Keith’s heart stuttered.

He pulled back to look at the Omega properly, breath catching in his throat. Lance’s eyes swam with contentment, his mouth ghosting a smile. The pink flush of his cheeks, neck, and chest steeped with heat-scent. The softening length of his slick cock rested on Keith’s stomach, slit still weeping. When he noticed Keith’s staring he quirked a drunken grin.

“Hey,” Lance purred, settling into Keith’s chest.

“Hey back,” Keith said, worry easing a bit.

Lance nosed at Keith’s throat, fingers still carding through the Alpha’s hair. Carefully—oh, so carefully—Keith eased himself away from the wall and laid back, taking Lance with him. They settled into the nest, swelling scents as warm and heavy as the blankets and sheets. Keith checked himself apprehensively, knowing it would be some time before his knot waned but desperately wishing to pull out of Lance. To make sure he was okay. To draw a bath for him. Or bring him water. Or make him the best damn comfort food he could think of.

“Keith,” Lance muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Relax.”

“What?”

“Reeeelaaaax,” Lance drawled. He propped his chin on Keith’s chest with a grin, all trace of heat-haze gone from his bright eyes. “You’re so big.”

Keith blinked, face flushing.

“Do you always get this big?”

“Uh,” Keith’s blush deepened, if possible, “not usually, no. Sorry.”

Lance wiggled his hips, making them both wince.

He laughed, which made Keith laugh.

“Oh my god,” Lance giggled, “we _did_ it. I can’t believe you let me do it.”

“You said!” Keith defended.

“I did,” Lance’s giggle petered out into a simple smile, one that still reached his eyes, “I did say. Uhm…do…does it feel nice?”

Keith’s head flopped back with a groan.

“Lance,” he said, “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”

“Really?” Lance perked up.

“God, yes…and you?”

Lance shrugged, “Eh, I’ve had better.”

Keith dug his knuckles into Lance’s scalp, making the other giggle and squirm. Eventually they managed to settle, Lance still laying on Keith’s chest, ear pressed over his heart, Keith’s knot still showing no signs of lessening. Keith massaged his hands in small circles on Lance’s back, tracing the arc of his spine and the lines of his shoulder blades. Unbelievably, Lance’s eyelids began to droop, his breath evening against Keith’s chest.

“Hey,” Keith prompted gently.

“Mm? Mm…” Lance muttered, “…can I sleep?”

Keith hesitated, then, “Yeah. Of course.”

“Mm,” Lance’s voice fell away even then, “M’gonna. Night, Keith.”

“Goodnight, Lance.”

Almost half an hour later, Keith managed to pull out of the sleeping Omega. He winced when the other stirred, delayed wet streaking his thighs. But Lance didn’t wake. God, he was probably exhausted. Fighting his own fatigue, Keith checked to make sure Lance was okay. A bit red, but otherwise fine. The tension left Keith’s shoulders in a rush. He resolved to deal with the mess in the morning and flopped down beside Lance with a long sigh, managing to establish a point of contact between them—a heavy hand on Lance’s unmarked shoulder—before letting exhaustion wash over in the form of a deep, warm sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't been responding to comments - I love and thank all of you for each and every one! They're all so wonderful.  
> -Love gum_weed


	8. Chapter 8

Lance woke shivering. Cold? He pawed after the edge of a blanket like a drunk, pulling one up over his bare shoulders and snuggling down deep. The strangeness of feeling cold didn’t hit him until a moment later, realization jolting to the surface of his half-sleep lull. He sat up, blinking rapidly, feeling his bare chest break out in chills at the loss of the blanket. _Cold_. Or, rather, not hot for the first time in days. Which meant…

His heat was over?

Six days exactly. On the shorter side of Keith’s estimate though it felt like a lifetime. Lance patted himself down in the pre-morning darkness, torn between relief and disappointment. His body felt foreign. Like he was touching it for the first time. The bumps of his ribs. The hollow of his pelvis. The long, soft expanse of his thighs. All parts of himself he _knew_. Parts of himself he was born with, grew up with. But different now. Melted and reformed in a six-day-old chrysalis, split and spilled too soon. Raw. Cold. 

Losing his heat felt like losing a favorite blanket. The warmth. The ease. The comfort. It’d been everything Keith promised…

Shit, _Keith_.

Lance twisted in search of the Alpha to no avail. The nest was empty. Was it still a nest now that he wasn’t in heat anymore? Lance patted the blankets, struck by how _not_ his they were. None of this was his! None of these blankets. None of these pillows. Hell, one or two of Keith’s shirts even ended up threaded into the mess at some point. A sense of dread settled heavy in Lance’s stomach and he sat back on his heels, awareness looming like a thunderhead.

If he lost his heat that meant…he’d lose everything. His nest. His comfort. His confidence. His freedom. His pleasure. His Alpha—

Lance’s train of thought derailed violently.

_His_ Alpha? Since when was Keith _his_ Alpha? Since when was _any_ of that stuff his? Comfort? Freedom? Pleasure? Those were _Keith’s_ , not his. He’d only broken his dry heats because of Keith. He’d only built this nest because of Keith. He’d only lost his virginity because of Keith. All of it…because of an Alpha.

Clarity synched in Lance’s gut and he stood, stumbling over a clinging blanket into the hall. His breath rode high in his lungs as he wobbled into the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet before the bile rising in his throat rushed out. He cried between heaves, eyes blurred, throat seared, nose clogged. It’d been a while since he’d had a full-blown panic attack. He forgot how awful they felt. Every part of him shook, right down to his bones. God, his _bones_. They groaned with tension, echoing in his ears. More than anything he wanted to take them out one by one and curl up on the floor like a flat blanket.

Please stop, please stop, pleasestop, pleastop—

“Lance.”

Please stop…please…stop…in…out…in, out. In. Out. Breathe.

“Lance,” Keith’s voice came nearby, soft, “can I touch you?”

In. Out. In. Out.

“Please?”

Lance managed to nod, just barely. Warm palms pressed against the tortured curl of his spine, sliding up and down his back in time with his breathing. They counted. Just like the first time. Until the fire left the Omega’s lungs and he pried his teary eyes up from the toilet bowl. Keith face was pale, his lips half-parted in panic despite the steady clarity of his voice. He stroked at Lance’s forehead, blindly grabbing for a towel to clean the bile from Lance’s chin. Lance might’ve felt embarrassed if he weren’t so damn grateful.

“You okay?” Keith asked, palm still stroking the Omega’s forehead.

“My heat ended,” Lance managed, voice thin.

“Do…” Keith looked confused, “do you feel sick?”

“…no.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No.”

“Lance,” Keith said, “what’s wrong?”

Lance’s eyes darted feverishly. How could he explain? Everything inside him screamed to thank Keith for his service and send him on his way. This is what he paid the agency for, right? This was Keith’s job. He’d probably been with hundreds of pathetic Omegas just like him. Shivering on the tiles of the bathroom floor, throat stinging with acid, Lance couldn’t even muster the audacity to think himself special. One of a million.

“It’s like porn,” Lance muttered, eyes dropping.

Keith’s brow knitted in confusion.

“Not…” Lance swallowed, “not real? None of this was real?”

Keith stilled.

He leaned back on his heels, towel dangling from one hand. His eyes drew dark and distant. In that moment, Lance wondered what Keith’s favorite color was. His favorite food. His birthday. His parent’s and foster parents’ names. He wanted to hear what he’d learned in the EMT program so far. Why he wanted to be a paramedic in the first place. What kind of bike he rode. How long he’d lived in the city. Whether or not he liked the rain. What he dreamed of. Everything. All of it. Every. Little. Thing.

“Is that how you feel?” Keith finally said, voice low.

Lance pressed his lips together, tears welling again. _No_ , he wanted to say. _That’s not how I feel_. He felt like standing up, brushing his teeth, and going into the kitchen to make coffee. Two cups. He felt like sitting Keith down in that deliciously warm shaft of morning light that always spilled into the living room at the perfect angle. He felt like seeing Keith in that light. Handing him a cup. Sitting down with him. Leaning into him. He felt like doing that. Just that. But he couldn’t say it, because saying it meant _wanting_ it. And _want_ invited _truth_. And more often than not, the truth hurt him.

Like the truth that he hated being an Omega. Hated the way he felt when that truth became clear. Six-years-old in the kitchen, hands tacky from a half-peeled orange, eyes tearing up when that scent and that feeling came from deep, deep inside him. Omega. Omega. Omega. Dumb, weak, pathetic, stupid, broken, male Omega. Presentations were supposed to be celebrated. A coming of age. Instead, Lance stayed in his room and cried and cried. _You’ll drown us with those crocodile tears…_

“I feel…” Lance choked – tried again, “I feel—”

Don’t say it.

Dumb Omega.

Just let it go.

Keith’s lips brushed the hollow of Lance’s throat, air whistling over his teeth. Lance spasmed somewhere between freezing up and crumpling in. Keith’s body was warm. And solid. And right there. Lance clung to Keith’s shoulders and rolled his head back with a shiver. The Alpha’s hand came to rest on the small of the Omega’s back and he pulled Lance into his lap. Lance couldn’t even find the strength to be embarrassed of his bare skin or his sour breath. He smelled, and cried too much, and was skinny and annoying and self-deprecating – but Keith held him anyway. Close and tight and warm.

“I, uh…” Keith muttered, lips brushing Lance’s skin, “me and Shiro, we…we make dinner most nights. Together. Uhm…would you like to come sometime? We can try flan again. Only…only if you want to.”

Keith’s thumb brushed the mark on Lance’s shoulder.

And for once, _want_ and _truth_ lined up perfectly.

A constellation of just two stars.

And for once, Lance didn’t feel like a dumb, pathetic, weak Omega. He felt like Lance. Lance, who loved rain, and his family, and overrated pop stars. Lance, who missed Cuba more than he liked to admit, and enjoyed dancing (the fun, group kind…though dancing for Keith wasn’t bad either). Lance, who still had a long, long way to go—but really, truly navigated his first foothold in being happy with being _him_.

Lance laughed, short and wet, probably smearing the side of Keith’s neck with spit and snot, and nodded. He felt Keith’s shoulders hitch, then relax, the Alpha’s hand trailing up and down Lance’s bare back. He wasn’t in heat anymore. Keith’s touch shouldn’t feel this good…but it did. He shivered and wished he could sink deeper into Keith’s arms. Not because he was an _Alpha_ , but because he was _Keith_. Keith, who talked him through his dry wave. Keith, who helped him built his first nest. Keith, who hated Vin Diesel movies, and couldn’t cook deserts, and ran away countless times as a kid, and had nightmares about people leaving him, and wanted to be a paramedic so he could help others, just like he’d helped Lance.

Keith…who he was currently straddling on his bathroom floor, buck naked.

Lance straightened like a rigid slap bracelet, backbone smarting at the snap. He met Keith’s dark, confused eyes with a furious blush.

“I’m naked,” Lance blurted.

Keith’s brow cocked.

“Y-yes?”

“Fuck,” Lance said, knocking the breath out of Keith when he shoved on the Alpha’s chest to help himself stand. He hesitated for a moment before double realizing he was _standing naked in front of Keith_ and making a heel-to-toe beeline for his bedroom door. Keith blinked after Lance, still slumped against the bathtub on the Omega’s bathroom floor. After a moment, a smile quirked on his lips. As if he hadn’t seen Lance naked before. As if he hadn’t spent the better part of a week with Lance _naked_.

The whole sentiment made Keith chuckle as he stood and turned into the kitchen to make coffee. He’d leave sometime soon – since his “job” was over. But first, he wanted to make Lance coffee. And make sure he was really okay with coming over for dinner. And help him clean up…fuck it, he’d take him to breakfast too. After they both took a shower…preferably together.

Keith hesitated in the kitchen entryway, hand finding the back of his neck as he blinked once, twice, slow.

Fuck, he was in deep, wasn’t he?

Shiro’s annoying, knowing grin bounced in his mind.

He heard Lance’s bedroom door click open and his stomach dropped a bit.

Seeking blue, blue eyes, Keith turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the end is really the beginning.
> 
> Thanks so, so much for reading, and commenting, and all the kudos - I've overwhelmed by how NICE everyone is being! Looking forward to hearing from everyone in my upcoming works!
> 
> -Love gum_weed


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